Song parody of

Sore Losers

by Russ

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  • English (English)
  • Français (French)
  • Español (Spanish)

Yeah So many sore losers keep tryna talk to me Y'all need to focus on winning, stop focusing on me Yeah Thirteen thousand in Portugal, that's arena talk You still on your Training Day, you Ethan Hawke Rappers with your get rich quick scheme gimmicks Instead of hating you should focus on your sixteenth minute We are not side by side, ain't no split-screen image I'ma be around forever like a Springsteen ticket I'm just bathing in success, yeah I rinse clean with it I put my best foot forward like a Nowitzki pivot I got blitzkrieg critics They ain't wastin' no time But I ain't wastin' no money, so I pay 'em no mind That's a lie, I be snappin' That's my fault, I'm adjustin' to people spreadin' lies about me Just hatin' and judging For the sake of discussion, in the hopes of some clout Shit's been stressful, I just need some pretty hoes with some mouth Put my home in the South, 10K square feet Name your favorite rappers now, let's play "where's he?" Probably chasin' a hit, probably lost in LA Probably paying for likes, probably paying for plays Probably owns a Corolla, but probably rents the Aventador Business manager furious, like "What the fuck did you spend that for?" Fuck y'all though, I'ma keep on winnin' I got angels all around me, y'all can keep on sinnin' 'Cause ain't no way y'all are fuckin' up my light light I spent two million just on taxes, somethin' light light In hindsight, I was right all along, life of a don Writin' songs, all those hooks were a fight to get on You gotta see it way before it happens, yes yes I'ma be the greatest, I won't settle for next best Got your girl in her birthday suit, that's best dressed Plus she likes girls too like Ellen DeGeneres First class Emirates that's how I'm flyin' SUVs on the tarmac, that's how I'm arrivin' Presidential treatment, ooh this life so good White skin, they can't believe that I got friends in the hood I know the love songs and melodies throw y'all off Don't give a fuck about your face tats, we know y'all soft People we know with face tats got them for a reason You use them for the gang culture aesthetic, you reachin' A lot of kids are poppin' Xans and sippin' lean now A lot of rappers using Instagram to teach how A lot of kids OD'ed that you don't read 'bout 'Cause they don't follow rappers, they just follow fiends now But I'm the bad guy for callin' it out I come in clutch with the truth, y'all are stallin' it out I only get in trouble when I say the truth Which means you gettin' fed lies everyday, you fools Do your research before you try and speak on my name Rappers wearing CZs and leasing the chains The beats classic, I amaze myself I'm a boss, I'm a owner, yeah I pay myself Fuck the capes of society, I saved myself Even after all the millions bitch, I stayed myself I still take my mom with me, Bugus still right here New people think my buzz got here in a lightyear Fuck y'all, this ain't a Toy Story I eat Nigerian, save some moimoi for me Yeah, lot of y'all girls I coulda hit But I'm the type to pass the pussy to stay home and cut a hit Never fuck a chick at her house, she got exes I just bought a crib, I got guns, I got exits Cameras at the entrance Try if you want to Bugus told me, "God forbid they get you, I got you" I'm an idol, people treat me like Billy Singin' and rappin' goin' platinum, people treat me like Drizzy Take the studio with me Set up shop in the telly I've watched a lot of rappers talk but then they flop like Belly There ain't shit you can tell me, you can save that shit Fake convos before favors, I hate that shit Yesterday turned down a 150,000 I ain't trippin' 'bout it I get that every week like allowance From my independent catalog Fuck these rec league rappers tryna battle 'Bron Stay in your lane, this is big business Move bitch, get back like Chris Bridges I remember only sellin' like six tickets Now I make the girls crazy like Sid Vicious I coulda played it different, coulda silenced all my truths Coulda buddied up with rappers for the sake of looking cool But it's not in me to be fake, I can't do it I can see through it, man this game is translucent They twist the truth for the headline drama Clicks create traffic, traffic creates dollars The sheep believe it, they ain't up on game yet Smooth rides ain't as fun to watch as trainwrecks (damn) Controversy is currency, controversy is clout That's why my haters keep my name in their mouth Y'all are hopeless, this is a decade of devotion It's hard to stop my movement when I'm already in motion This ain't luck, this is by design I had to work in the dark for my light to shine A lot of people are dope, they just quit too soon A lot of rappers go broke, 'cause they got rich too soon (damn) My confidence plus my success is just a mirror for some It forces them to look around and see what they haven't done That's a line for any hater, y'all are mad at yourselves Judging every move I make, y'all distractin' yourselves You could do this shit too if you wanted But you would rather sit around and bitch and make comments Oh well, suit yourself, be miserable I'm country-hoppin' in a jet, that's the visual I saw this coming in my hoodie with the plaid flannel I bet on myself, yeah I had to gamble I feel like I'm half god, half mammal Bitch I turned my life into the Travel Channel I'm not home, I'm in Stockholm With heated floors and the beds with the soft foam It's like clockwork watching sore losers poke their heads out Every time I big myself up, they get stressed out I'm the best out, yeah I said it Self-made millionaire, you know what's up with the credits (damn) I'm the best out, yeah I said it Self-made millionaire, you know what's up with the credits Bitch, yeah Produced, mixed, mastered

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Sore Losers

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