There's too many tracks about turning up
Too many tracks about pouring up
There's too many tracks about shoes and cars
Too many tracks about shooting up
Ya'll should take a seat, while they folding up
Vomit words vertically, guess they throwing up
Not trying to burn sh** down, but hold your lighters up
Hov's holy grail's just a golden cup
Listen to my Big Bang theory, call me Raj
Stop spitting about a** and Nicki Minaj
Rap's an art, like a painting countryside bucolic
Don't talk sh**, unless you're painting jackson pollock
Focus on the meaning, don't focus on the aesthetic
And it'll fall into place like it's copacetic
Get money off your mind and mind off your money
You'll be swimming in sweet gold, your bars of honey
*Chorus*
Ooooh Honey x2
*Chorus*
High rollers rapping about how it's all the same
It's a byproduct of the wealth and fame
Hypocritical to criticize the game
When only money, weed and s** is on your brain
What happened to that coming up from nothing music
What happened to that diamonds in africa music
What happened to that sweatshirt and jeans looking music
What happened to that straight on the streets music
Oh Honey, can I do this, Do this
Fame and poetry so elusive, lusive
Autopsy is inconclusive, lusive
Who k**ed rap, who tied the nooses
I'll be the one to shock it back to life
Reciting poetry like I'm serenading my wife
Medicate music like Dre, a professional talker
Guess my Parents always wanted me to be a doctor
*Chorus*
Thank You for listening