Badass - Troy Ave

Some people throw shots but it don’t matter

Cause when I throw shots, bones shatter

Shout to all the real independents

Labels and women, BSB

You sold a couple records but nobody cares

You never on the radio cause nobody cares

You don’t matter so you mad bruh, nobody cares

You just a Internet rapper, nobody cares

You a worker, I’m a boss yo, nobody cares

What’s your record?

Man I don’t know, nobody cares

I asked the bad bitches, and nobody cares

I asked the real niggas, and nobody cares

I wake and talk shit, spit the raw shit, stop

You’s a flithy backpack rapper out a thrift shop

Drug addict face, what’s on your junkie head?

You ain’t no badmon cause you went and grew dreads

Who you kill?

Who you rob?

Who you extort?

Pussyhole and beat your ass pon the city bus

I know real niggas, and none of em bump you

I know plenty bad bitches, and none of em fucked you!

Stupid lil fool, here go ya intervention

When they talk about the time, ya name is never mentioned

Nobody cares, I ain’t dissin, this is true

You a bullshit, Jordan crying face, boo hoo

I never hear ya songs when I bug in the club

I never hear ya songs in the hood, you a dubb

You’ll never be the guy, never could, never was

If you ever had a hater, tell em get off ya nuts

You sold a couple records but nobody cares

You never on the radio cause nobody cares

You don’t matter so you mad bruh, nobody cares

You just a Internet rapper, nobody cares

You a worker, I’m a boss yo, nobody cares

What’s your record?

Man I don’t know, nobody cares

I asked the bad bitches, and nobody cares

I asked the real niggas, and nobody cares

They gon play this hit on the radio dawg

And you gon be like «Damn, why they playin this for?»

You ain’t hot so you give the blame to the DJs

I be making fire, giving flame to the DJs!

You tryna do music for Coachella

I make shit for foreign whips and drug sellers

You more Digable Planets, I’m more Roc-A-fella

I’m more shoebox money, you more go to the teller

This fella got a identity crisis, I know me

Oh, you a real MC?

Then you in P-O-P

«Let me teach you how to dance», that was B-A-D

You keep hitting my name ho, get off my D-I-C

Cause I’m a savage, this gon leave you sad bitch

Don’t get suicidal like ya friend, here’s a casket

STEEZ burning in Hell, my burner’s in my belt

I’m really killing shit, you niggas killing yourself

Fucking weirdos, off the roof, «Steer clear yo!»

This niggas tryna fly, he think he a superhero

Splat man!

Fuck you and that man

And all three labels you signed to, they wack man

Here’s the facts man

I’m a self made nigga, got it off the curb

You a finger snappin', poet rapper, spoken word

If it really was the 90s, you’ll be titled as a herb

If ya movie was biography, Revenge of the Nerds!

You sold a couple records but nobody cares

You never on the radio cause nobody cares

You don’t matter so you mad bruh, nobody cares

You just a Internet rapper, nobody cares

You a worker, I’m a boss yo, nobody cares

What’s your record?

Man I don’t know, nobody cares

I asked the bad bitches, and nobody cares

I asked the real niggas, and nobody cares

Try to start a beef with me, boy you got some

Nerve, nerve, nerve, nerve

You know what I do to beef?

Man I cook and I

Serve, serve, serve, cook and

Serve, cook and, serve, cook and

Serve, cook and, serve, cook and

Serve, cook and, serve, cook and

You know what I do to beef?

Cook and serve

You sold 60K, it’s funny, nobody cares

Miss Ninety Percent is taking 20, nobody cares

That’s $ 480 worth of money, nobody cares

50 percent go to Johnny, nobody cares

That’s $ 240 worth of loot dawg, nobody cares

Tell Cinematic come recoup dawg, nobody cares

$ 150 budget down in $ 90, ooh Lord, nobody cares

I made $ 114, that’s more than you dawg, fuck outta here!