Facts YCK

[Verse 1]
Plays don't mean a thing when all your music is trash
And same thing with all the views, you're getting buy em' up with cash
Say "Fuck" to anyone who never gave me a chance
Cause if I blew up real quick, they'd turn around and be fans
Saying "Day one bumping, listening to Yung Chink"
The only songs they fucking know; That's All I Need and Lowkey
Take a step back, I don't need to get that feature
Bitch I hate fake success, I'm not a motherfucking leecher
There ain't enough hours in the course of a day
And I say "Fuck working jobs, feels like a chore to get paid"
Take a couple hits and then I store it away
The fact is I gotta do it to hide distortion and pain
Known for my flow and my unique stage presence
Coming straight out of Fresno, a place that don't make legends
I wanna end that trend, I'm thinking "Let's be honest"
Said I don't want the fame but I might break that promise

[Verse 2]
Go another verse, I swear this shit is so easy
Like why join another rapper when they're the ones that I'm beating?
Copy paste all those words but left behind all the meaning
Being honest, I couldn't tell that I was even competing
Say that I'm a rapper but got no gold in my gums
And all these people making green from what was sold in the slums
Got a man up on the corner who sells whatever you need
Some real black market shit, receive no tabs or receipts
Anything will do but use a bong or a pipe
Selling product to the people who can't tell wrongs from their rights
They ain't afraid of your talking cause' you ain't got no bite
They've gotten used to the shadows creeping under street lights
Secrets are kept cause' all the walls have ears
It doesn't take all that much, a population will hear
Murder rates up while the coast stays clear
Got no second coming but the reaper stays near