Figure Me Out

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Genre

Genre (from French genre 'kind, sort') is any form or type of communication in any mode (written, spoken, digital, artistic, etc.) with socially-agreed-upon conventions developed over time. In popular usage, it normally describes a category of literature, music, or other forms of art or entertainment, whether written or spoken, audio or visual, based on some set of stylistic criteria, yet genres can be aesthetic, rhetorical, communicative, or functional. Genres form by conventions that change over time as cultures invent new genres and discontinue the use of old ones. Often, works fit into multiple genres by way of borrowing and recombining these conventions. Stand-alone texts, works, or pieces of communication may have individual styles, but genres are amalg… more »

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Woah Woah
Mmm, Mhmm
Mhmm
They can’t figure me out
They wonder why this reckless shit come out of my mouth
I think, they think I buy into the stories they told
And even though I know my heart made of gold
I’m still chasing gold
My life on go
My wrist on froze
I really got hoes
Man, y'all n****s ain’t real, shout to real n****s I know
‘Cause I know they never ever gone fold
Man, they never fold
Real n****s never fold
I told my bitch I’m on the road
Even though now my heart is cold
And this shit is gassed baby, my shit ain’t gassed yeah
I’m like the hot seat, you don’t want me on your ass yeah
I smoke that good shit, I smoke that grass yea
When I was down bad they would laugh yeah yeah
She said “N***a, all you think about is racks,” I know
I could never change on the gang I chose
I just want some chains on my gang all froze
I’m Young Genre and I sang to ya hoe like
Ooh
Ooh
Ooh
And they try, but can’t they figure me out
N***a, do yourself a favor, keep my name out your mouth
I think, they wanna know me but they know I won’t let ‘em
And they don’t like the fact it’s easy to dead ‘em
But you know what I know
My life on go
My wrist on froze
I really got hoes
Man, y'all n****s ain’t real, shout to real n****s I know
‘Cause I know they never ever gone fold
Man, they never fold
Real n****s never fold
I told my bitch I’m on the road
Even though now my heart is cold
I can never fraud, I cannot pretend
I don’t f*ck with none of y’all, nah we are not friends
I been on the road for a while, can you feel the wind?
And I got my dogs here now riding ‘til the end yeah yeah
Never cuttin’ ties, never switchings sides oh
I get super fly with the n****s I know
“Never gone waste my time,” is what I told my side hoe
She said, “I can feel your pain and it sounds cold”
Sounds like
Ooh
Ooh
Ooh
And they can’t figure me out
They can’t figure me out
I think
Stories of gold
Stories of gold

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