"Rapping On The Couch" lyrics

Yo, I haven't wrote a song in a while
I guess I've been down
Guess I didn't the have energy to pick a pen up
Shit, I barely have the energy to crack smiles
Similar to back in the class, I was barely gonna pass
With a flask full of Jack and a book full of raps and an ear full of laughs
Similar to back when I barely had some money for the gas, ask
Pops if I can borrow the car today
Someone asked me to be on a song today
And they said I can do a couple shows wit' em
If I help them sell a couple of tickets at the mall today
But hey
I know you wanna see me keep a job
Keep school first, blah blah blah
But all I got, is this one shot
And I'm taking it to the top
If I don't gotta load up another box
In this Penske truck, fuck that
'Cause next year the rent be up, fuck that
And my bank is empty bruh, fuck that
The world tryin' to set me up, fuck that
So I bounce back like jumping jacks
Take a pull, and see how my lungs react
And I don't give a fuck if it kills the brain
'Cuz reality itself is killing me mane
So I need an ounce of weed, and house for me
Everyday when I wake up
A hippie bitch with no make up
Who loves to fuck and roll J's up
Fat ass with little A cups
You know just what I'm sayin', 'cuz
And I'm like fuck 15 minutes
I'm trying to live infinite
I don't got a big yacht
My legacy is all I got
So I call three bitches and my dealer on the same cell
Told them to pull up to the something place hotel
Felt like I had maids in the room
Girl cleanin' dust off the surface like brooms
Shit, you know I gotta start my day off with a shot
Cheese eggs in the middle of the pot
Throw a little leather on the wrist
'Bout four rings on the fists, bitch
Why I need a watch?
And it's always my time
Even back before the young man got signed
Even back before the mixtapes got heard
I was in the streets, fuck being online
And if you wanna turn up, we can turn up like a motha fucka
I pay fifty for a shot like fuck it
Small price when you keep one hunnit
True thanks on the red carpet get blunted
Never changed for the public
Y'all look disgustin'
Look at me court side next to Kate Upton
Look at me pouring 5 cups of White Russian
Speaking of which, bitch, I just came through customs
Speaking of which I been dreaming of this to redeem
All those years I was treated like shit to receive
The awards that my peers seems to get
Received a convertible top on this whip
Bitch I feel like Fif'
Time to get rich or die tryin'
Tired of heating grilled cheese up on my iron
Its time to get three hoes or more, Frankie Lymon
The weed man can call it good timin'
'Cuz I need an ounce of weed, and a house for me
Everyday when I wake up, Bitch
I need some Hennessy and a house for me
Everyday when I wake up
Kellz