Brown Sam - Tryna Get It

[Verse 1: Brown Sam]

Shot of vodka, chase it with Jarritos
Get a job in retail cuz I wanna get the free clothes
Y'all are sheeple, I get it for my people
That means anyone at the Brown Sam steeple
All Gucci though, Prada's on the opposite
Hit ya with the discus, while your CD is the floppiest
So last year, I'm livin in the future ho
My Grints wide, bitch is redder than that Rupert bro
Uptown player, man I never sling the rocks though
Makes me cooler, my main homie baby Spock yo
The apostles been reppin' since the fossils
Rice and beans so tasty when I eat it at Chipotle
Pizza rapper, stuntin on the crapper
Cholesterol is high man I'm only on my napper
Michelle obama tells me that my life is drama
GOBin I ain't walking girl my Segway is a llama
Damn, I does arrest developments
Am a firebender, dawgs the master of His element
Girl light the match, and I set that shit like 
Welcome to the Piland, you homies are just residents

[Hook: Brown Sam]
Really tryna get it, yeah I'm really tryna get it (x3) 
[Verse 2: Brown Sam]
Gotta get my fuckin' ass off muthafuckin' Reddit
Yes this screen is some kind of addiction
Should avert my eyes and just focus on my diction
Worst day's when you find out Roald Dahl is a racist
Papa read Bradbury so to me this heat is basic
Now you see me, fix your eyes like Lasik
Looking like my mama, love your mama don't be fake bitch
Where your friends at, lost 'em in the thick of it
With your bad behavior shoulda seen that in the syllabus
Now you're flunking out, and your mama think you're shittiest
So you move back in and beg your mama please just pity this
Shut the fuck up deadbeat kid stop suckin on my tity bitch
Prodigal son, no you ain't that
Don't got no gun, still say bratttt
I'm about my culture, I figure that I'm prominent
Flexin' on the vultures, Obama drop a bomb on it


[Verse 3: Brown Sam]
Where this bitch at? Damn I guess I'm fuckin' deaded
Like Romero, this death has dawned upon me
Bard is vagabonding hit the sewers Giuliani
Big bad wolf in the emperor's clothes
Wiener's our savior? Nah he's flexing on hoes
Yo, disappearance of the white guilt
On the higher ground in addition to the high stilts
Gilded is just gilded its the secret of the light gilt
Pull back thin veneer and see that Daisy sports a right wilt
That's Gatsby, I only spit the facts B
Fuelin' all my hunger are the claims that I'm not rappy
Same people that were hatin' sighted being clappy
Smoking bogies, make my voice more raspy
They killin' homies, to cover up Benghazi
Clear moment seein' that the zeitgeist is a folly
Molly, y'all are just druggies of the moment
Ruins are so ugly yo y'all wish you were the Romans
Pretty fucked up we know that all this shit is bad
Damn, look at me picketing real undergrad!




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