Album: This Unruly Mess I've Made (2016)
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  • I used to work at Subway
    Seven bucks an hour wasn't much money
    But I be rapping and kicking it on my lunch break
    Like "I'mma make it out this motherfucker one day"
    I was in the back, back seat of the bus before a bluetooth
    Got the boombox and a blunt, bootlegger deuce-deuce
    H on my crew, we get drunk, a little coo-coo
    Type of dudes who square up and knock a tooth loose
    Quick to the basement, the, the, the basement
    That is the window I'm planning to vacate with
    Pops put on bars just in case somebody breaks in
    That's not gonna stop me from getting to the pavement
    Shh, meeting Jerome at the bus stop
    I got the bigger roll, paranoid buck cops
    And all my city's known for grunge, flannel, puck rock
    And a bunch of Sub Pop, I was on that Buckshot

    Window to window and wall to wall
    Can of Krylon, we out to bomb
    (Buckshot)
    Four in the morning I'm with the squad
    There we go, there we go, there we go, there we go
    Window to window and wall to wall
    Can of Krylon, we out to bomb
    Four in the morning I'm with the squad
    There we go, there we go, there we go, there we go

    Just copped that new Boot Camp tape
    The neighbors keep complaining 'bout too much bass
    Bang, bang, let me do my thing
    Give me two cans and you gon' know my name
    You don't want to get involved
    You know I be on these overpasses burning bridges, dog
    You know I be dippin' through these alleys tryna diss the law
    Sixteen with Adidas on
    I'm too speedy for police I'm chiefin' through these streets, I'm gone
    I got game, don't need to talk anymore
    Boppity-bo, tippity-toppity, I pop me some more
    I was underground where he came from and he pop out a hole
    Cracked the top back on the flat black aerosol
    I woke up in the morning and I had a vision
    These suit and ties got the nerve to call it vandalism
    They hella mad, say my art is really bad for business
    But I'mma paint a better world until the cans are empty
    Now let it drip, let it drip
    If they catch me doing dirt I'll plead the fifth
    I pop a top, I brought my Glock
    Speakers bumpin', I was on that Buckshot

    Window to window and wall to wall
    Can of Krylon, we out to bomb
    (Buckshot)
    Four in the morning I'm with the squad
    There we go, there we go, there we go, there we go

    Chill-chill-chilin' with the crew
    Just writing my name in graffiti on the wall
    Who-who-who is he?
    (Yeah, knowledge reigns supreme)
    Got the world following the

    Turn up the CD or turn up the TV
    Turn up your T-A-P-E, turn your phone up, crank up the PC
    See, my boys are really PC if you're talking graffiti
    See, we call it aerosol art when we splatter the city
    I got twenty five cans in my napsack
    Crossing out the whick-whack
    TIOS's ain't even get that
    Fat tips and black books, yo, we rep that
    149th street bench is where we slept at
    Clep-clap, clep-clap, clep-clap, clep-clap
    Those are not my words, the spray can said that
    Where them reds at, or them green turquoise?
    Where my real graf writers? Make some noise

    Chill-chill-chilin' with the crew
    Just writing my name in graffiti on the wall
    Who-who-who is he?
    (Macklemore)
    Got the world following the
    (Buckshot, shot, shot, shot) Writer/s: BEN HAGGERTY, BUSTER HARDING, CAB CALLOWAY, CHRISTOPHER MARTIN, JACK PALMER, JOSH RAWLINGS, LAWRENCE PARKER, RYAN S LEWIS
    Publisher: Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
    Lyrics licensed and provided by LyricFind

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