Lyrics
All the shade, shade
always thrown my way
But I guess I gotta flex
on these fucking sweet flakes
All the paid, paid
All these bitches be fucking paid
Pay you in some dust
Hope you blow away
All the shade, shade
always thrown my way
But I guess I gotta flex
on these fucking sweet flakes
All the fake, fake
All these bitches motherfucking fake
Self worth too much
For these fucking cheap skates
How you shade an eclipse bitch?
Walk right by like ya don’t exist
Why faggies always be pissed
Fuck with good vibes only
Fuck the negative
Got them trip-a-lets
On some simple shit
Keep on missing me
With the nonsense
Think I’m bothered
It’s a nah sis
Phoniness make me nauseous
I’m from Bmore so be cautious
All you hoes with no conscience
Karma’s real so be conscious
Keep on talking slick
Be unconscious
On sight
Catch a case I might
Beat it just like Mike
Have you sleeping real real tight
Colorism blurring people’s vision
Treating life like it’s a competition
Getting more attention
Is y’all thought of winning
All it’s doing is creating more division
That’s my POV of the community
Will it always be “better you than me”
Shade is real nothing new to me
Paris burning one to you Dupree
And the whole cast getting no cash
Before they passed
And you whores be gassed
While they appropriating
On our stupid ass
I know the Word say the first be last
But that 1% making their paper stack
While we keep laying on our backs
Gettin fucked now we stuck
Making dollars cuz we still are bucks
(Yup)
Chorus
Rob and Chyna was #couplegoals
Think y’all God bitches
Y’all don’t know
Social med’ sets the social codes
Y’all gain the world but lose your soul
Irrelevant if you are old
Hot flashes but still I’m cold
Only time being versatile
When I switch it up with the verse and flow
Johnie Depp
I’m the Mad Hatter
Answer’s yes
I’m the Mad Rapper
Ghostwriting, hoes biting
While I’m making bops
So y’all can clap tah
If you’re talking shit
No need to snap yah
You’ll see stars
Caught in the rapture
Anita Baker, I can’t take yah
Get a nice clip then delete your capture
Rhyming words but lacking skill
Using image to gain appeal
They alright but they ain’t real
They alright but they ain’t ill
Give me something that I can feel
En Vogue singing to Johnny Gill
Rub you the right way
Polish up that Black steel
Make it shine like some chrome wheels
Bad beat but these hoes’ll deal
I’ma Killer call me Lil Seal
Bussing shots these caps will peel
Hail Mary you hoes will kneel
Tupac fore he was killed
Killuminati 7 Day
Exhumed as Johnie
The 7th Ray
(Ayee)
Chorus