JPEGMAFIA - Drake Era lyrics

[Intro] It's real, it's real (Coughing and mumbling) Yeah, uh [Verse 1] You see me & you see terror (oh yeah) I got stripes like a flag bearer Peggy, Peggy, I'm the new young Mayweather I'm just trying to take hip-hop out the Drake era f** a mob f** a squad f** your mans and them You singing a** n***as don't know how to be men I hit your baby mama Gave that b**h a new tan I talk that greasy sh** And hit them with a new dance Oh my god (oh) Peggy, Peggy Your so good f** whoever said you up you up to no good Cause I'm the man in the street The man with the beats And the man holding heat I drop bombs like I drop science (whoo) Drop a body off like a dropped client Drop 6 Drop Top Drop FaceTime I give a f** about peace I spit hate crimes Who the f** you know could k** 'em with these cold lines? Young Peglord on the mic b**h, it's go time I piss white boys off in my spare time Tugging at your heart I'm the black Ben Carson So try me if you really wanna No seriously (yeah) Try me if you really wanna Who the f** told you Peggy wasn't getting paid? I square up with a square n***a and catch a fade [Hook] Swisher sweet (swisher sweet) Ain't nobody can f** with me k** the beat (k** the beat) Backpackers they loving me Oh my god (god) OH GOD (oh god) Huh, huh Swisher sweet (swisher sweet) Ain't nobody can f** with me k** the beat (k** the beat) Backpackers they loving me Oh my god (god) OH GOD (oh god) [Verse 2] Uh, f** you coon a** n***as that don't like rap But you rap How f**ing dumb is that? b**h a** n***as be too committed to the act I know you wanna jock Imma take you off the atlas With your Indie a** And you Metacritic rappers don't get no pa** You got these white girls singing These white girls singing But n***as never feel you so you play it like you different I'm a f**ing grave digger I don't see these boys You step in my sandbox You gon' see these toys You suburban a** n***as need to stay in your place No snaps, no tweets This is straight to your face f** 'em I bring d**h to any n***a that try to rattle me You casualties actually factually you ain't as bad as me n***as say they charged up Imma drain your f**ing battery Split your a** in two and you still will never be half of me, Buster! f** your mob f** your squad f** your mans and them You indie n***as just wanna be black men I've been real all my life You're like MC Ride Two crackers call your album "n***a" and you let that slide, p**y Get the f** out of my genre, my genre Get the f** out of my genre, my genre Rich kids trying to go urban no shaman But this a new era I took hip-hop hostage, f**er [Bridge] Life is like a box of chocolate Life is like a box of chocolate girls (mumbling) Life is like a box of chocolate girls I don't want you in my world But these people f**ing other n***as b**hes Let the ba** hit 'em f** it, imma split 'em k** a n***a for the ribbons Yeah, uh [Verse 3] I don't get mad I get rich I don't get sad I get tips I'm not a waitress I'm not a waiter I don't Confer I just Counter, counter, counter Counter attack b**h I know you, know you, know you Know you wanna react But you can't, but you can't, but you can't You can't You gon' dance, you gon' dance, you gon' dance You dance I hear your Hotline Blinging Got a whole generation of p**y n***as singing n***as don't even know what they want no more No