Freddie Gibbs & The Alchemist – Something To Rap About (ft. Tyler, The Creator) (Audio, Lyrics)

Date 2020-05-30

Category Lyrics, New Music

Listen, stream, buy, mp3 download and read the lyrics to “Something To Rap About” by Freddie Gibbs & The Alchemist featuring Tyler, The Creator. The song was produced by The Alchemist.

Freddie Gibbs Something To Rap About

Freddie Gibbs Something To Rap About

Last night, Freddie Gibbs came through with his first official follow-up to Freddie, a classy album produced entirely by The Alchemist boasting the decadent title of Alfredo. As expected the album was absolutely brimming with bars from its leading man, who has consistently proven himself to be among the game’s best lyricists by a wide margin; in fact, he might be the most underappreciated artist of this modern era, an unwavering emcee consistently one-upping himself in every way.

While there are plenty of highlights to be found throughout Alfredo, it’s hard to deny the instantaneous appeal of seeing Tyler, The Creator swerve back into his rap lane — especially when he remains so effortless with it. Following a noble performance on Westside Gunn’s Pray For Paris, The Creator stands tall alongside Gibbs, who casts an imposing shadow in the best of times. Together they make a solid pair, taking to Alc’s laid-back jam session for their idea of a good time.

Freddie Gibbs & The Alchemist – Something To Rap About (ft. Tyler, The Creator) (prod. The Alchemist)


[Intro: Freddie Gibbs]
Bitch nigga
Nigga bitch
Oogie-boogie nigga
Sniff it up
Fuck nigga came to my section on Sunday, didn’t even bring shit or bottles, just ate, drank and dipped, fuck nigga
Yeah, ayo

[Verse 1: Freddie Gibbs]
Scammin’ niggas maxin’ out, ratchet bitches actin’ out
God made me sell crack so I’d have somethin’ to rap about
Lobster lollipops and crustaceans, ho, what you mad about?
I fucked you twice in Vegas, that pussy wasn’t shit to brag about
And I can’t draw for shit, but I knocked a bitch that I paid to sit
Magnums and some sweet aromatics, yeah, bitch I came equipped
I don’t do no sucker shit with no ho, mistletoe and Christmas exchanging gifts
She don’t like it, bitch can punch out, niggas be changin’ shifts
Yeah, you niggas bringin’ out the old me (Yeah)
I’m tryna live to 93 and see the old me
When I touched that crack, I let them crackers take control of me
Serve the beast, Caprice ain’t got no heat, man, it was cold G
Record labels downed me forty thousand on my first advance
Fucked up on my taxes, IRS kept me on payment plans
Crime fuckin’ pays, but once you paid, you gotta pay the man
Straight survival, right hand on the Bible, I won’t take the stand
Yeah, VL niggas trap it out
Lord let me hit this ho so I have something to rap about
Been through shit with hoes that I look back and I can laugh about
This shit wasn’t no joke, sittin’ in that cage, this shit was draggin’ out
Diego trippin’ cause I’m sittin’, ain’t no package out
He robbed the plug, kicked in the door and cleaned the mattress out
Right back in the trap, these niggas bringin’ out the old me (Yeah)
I’m tryna live to ninety-three and see the old me (Yeah)

[Verse 2: Tyler, The Creator]
Nail is in the coffin, Freddie sent me this shit
This sound like the boat I haven’t bought yet
This sound like the moment I jump off it
Sun shinin’, cold water fillin’ in my pockets
This lake water better than the faucet I grew up with
We hold our breath like grudges ’til we nauseous
We hop out, let the sun dry us like raisins
We get dressed in some Gucci or Lacoste, shit, it’s amazing
We look like Polo ads but skin is darkened
I gotta move cautious ’cause niggas malicious, they come from the trenches
I used to be a Goblin under them bridges, now I’m a businessman
I started gettin’ moola as youngin’, now I got bigger hands
To hold ’em, if I got too much on me, I know my niggas can
I keep my circle tight like tops, nothin’ corn, no crops
You messy and get cleaned up with the mop
I went to school and I ain’t miss it a lot
So I can be around niggas like you and learn how to keep my distance
I cut some niggas off on some hater shit niggas said to me
R.I.P. tees ’cause these motherfuckers is dead to me
Nail is in the coffin, murder, murder
I’m sick of y’all niggas and I ain’t coughin’, I know me
Y’all often anxious, lost in y’all thoughts and I don’t relate
So keep that energy away from me
Don’t blame me, ’cause you ain’t got it figured out
You ain’t got the bigger house, the jig is up
You jealous, dawg, my afro long, I’ll pick it out
Like cotton on some basic, shit is off
We ain’t adjacent
I’m grounded like the pavement, we ain’t linkin’ like the bracelet broke
Better get your wrist that hold on the thoughts you get and go
The fuck away, ’cause niggas get they faces broke
I just got a thumbs up and niggas go, like, “Good job”
You better find a shoe store and get your sole
Get it quick and slip it on
And I’ll be in “My-konos”, lemonade, sippin’ slow
Jumpin’ in the water off that boat I haven’t bought yet, bitch

[Outro: Tyler, The Creator]
One take
Let me hear that
I meant to say “Mykonos” (Haha)

I think (I think) that he died from alcohol (But I’m afraid—)
But if you write dog shit, it doesn’t do any good what you die—
Teach the parents to be civilized people, becau—

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