Social Club Misfits - The One With My Friends lyrics

[Intro: Marty] I think I'm the worst rapper on this entire song You know what it is Or, if you don't, you're about, you're about to know [Verse 1: Marty] I don't need a stylist I'm only wearin' black And my homies are wylin' We all love Taylor Swift I'm eatin' with pilots, they callin' me the chef I'm saucin' it up No directions, we made it from scratch Fear God tee on Shout out to Jerry Lorenzo They callin' me ugly I'ma still marry a ten though And I'm k**in' the friendzone I'ma kneel in the endzone And my ex had nothin' inside, so you know that I hopped out a window Anti-political, only makin' songs that I like This is anti-radio No placements, won't make it to top five And high five to my team, we don't respond to anybody on the sidelines And I shoulda died Like, I don't know, but it feels like I got nine lives [Verse 2: John Givez] I came in this with, like, four friends (four up) Tube socks and Chuck Taylors on I stayed in this and gave no cares (not one) Now I'm moonwalkin' on every song Area code is 7-6-0, 6-1-9, 8-5-8 Think I'm great, think y'all late That's okay Marty, let me come up in this party like I'm Scarface To point the finger at the bad guy (go ahead) At four years old I been a rabbi (gotta leave) Let me show you how to do this (I do it) I just need a pencil and a pad Guy, follow me now Couple record companies tryna call on me now Tell 'em all to hit they knees and acknowledge the style It came from God Man, I got my game from God Ain't a dollar that can move me from the reign of God I'm in this buildin' hollerin' West! Hold on, let me go and take a rest, I ain't yellin' at y'all (what) I'm just tryna hit you with some evidence y'all (what) Evidently heaven sent me excellence y'all I just wanna be a legend I just wanna speak to the people I just wanna play my sounds, make my rounds Love God, live life Do it all legal, it's easy [Verse 3: NF] Don't ask me a question If you don't wanna hear what my answer is, I'm gonna answer it I got no time for the drama I got no time for the politics I do not care about names They don't mean nothin' to me I didn't get in the game to make friends And kiss up to people that don't even like me You know what I mean! I don't expect everybody to like what I'm doin' out here But I am the one that's gon' look in the mirror at the end of the day You don't want my career I got some people that write me like, "I wish you'd die like your momma did" These are the comments that I gotta problem with You should be quiet and watch what you hollerin', woo! My fans will eat you alive Trolls, get off of my page My bars fly over they heads I wrote that line on a plane, I wrote that line on a plane You won't see me in a chain I basically wear the same shirt everyday Get a hole in it, go the store and I buy it again You already know who it is, for real [Verse 4: Wordsplayed] Still on the coast where they throw the set 'Palas still bounce like Hammer checks Papi gon' get 'em like Dangerfield Orale, you don't get no respect Labels that hit Fern and Marty up Marty and Fern never call 'em back "You tryna be funny?", was all they asked Look at the charts, who laughin' last? Now I'm signed, need contracts My God is major, my league minor Throwin' numbers up, need contact These beats remind of Scott Steiner Andy k**ed it on Sway's show So I best be workin' my one-liners Still pray for that skyline, boy's lit the shots at those one-timers I just wanna see hands in the air, my Lord Never thought rappin' would keep us employed Feelin' like Pacquiao I'm fightin' with Floyd The family watchin' I better go hard in the paint, that '96 Rodman Shots out to Eric, I got 'em Dog days in the Cali' summer Life's hard, this beat's harder Rest in peace out to Harold Hunter All praise to the Holy Father All the smoke was secondhand Either way we'll never land Say a prayer 'fore I come around Blood of Jesus, please wipe me down New York [Verse 5: Fern] I wake up from my bed Look over, kiss my lil' girl in the head Cause everyday is Father's Day Just like everyday is a birthday, you dig? Third of the three little pigs The wisest one, I build my house up with bricks So when the storm came, we just came together in the Lord's name Bruh, I sold d** Bruh, I been grimy Lord's stackin', you can ask 'bout me Had the OG's, they respected me The younger boys not remember me I was in them streets in the background Was your ganstar's gangsta, I spit game for free Nowadays when I recollected and I put it down, gotta pay me When you say Hollywood, gotta say me When it comes to these raps and these APs Cadillacs always been a M.O Even when the old school broke down I'll patch 'em up, hit the skrip with 'em It's no surprise a brother on now When the streets get a chance to speak up They want a brother that's gon' eat with 'em Speak up about the same issues and run it straight Ain't gon' play with 'em My contents done changed up, so them twelve year olds need a young sheperd Looked at Santino right in his eyes He broked out laughin', he's so reckless He know I got now, it's no pressure But when it's his turn, let the grits burn That Lawrence Fishburne But it's on record how his old boy spit it like an old veteran Fernie Aha, I was old boy spitting like an old veteran [Outro: Kaleb Mitchell] I'm in a lane by myself Ain't checkin' for nobody else Whole team lookin' monsterish Don't really care for they acknowledgments You can miss me with politics They lookin' at us like some problem kids Anti-political I'm anti-political Anti-political I'm anti-political