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lyrics

I don't care
About the platinum and gold
The cash and the clothes
The Lam or how fast that you drove

I don't care
About the mansions and homes
The Xans and the coke
And all that other trash you promote

I don't care
About the raps that you wrote
Or the fact that you don't
The man behind the pad is a ghost

I don't care
About the stats or the quotes
How you imagine you're dope
And you're surpassing the GOATs
(That's laughable, bro)

I power forward like Shawn Kemp
Keep my fam at arm's length and pray that God bless
My opps with a short life and a long death
Heard you on the court's side like LeBron's friends
You think you got the answers, it's the wrong test
Swear, if I see another rapper in a prom dress
I'll leave his bod stretched out across his mom's steps
With a corsage next to his blonde dreads
No sneak diss, don't beef with a rapper for nothin'
You actin' and bluffin' like you actually clappin' at somethin'
You ain't got the sticks and drums, better add some percussion
Your attitude sucks, it needs dramatic adjustment
Got you runnin' to high ground like Anakin's coming
I'm crashin' your function, crushin' any plan you come up with
I can count on one hand all the rappers I fuck with
These addicts get busted with drugs but still lackin' in substance

I don't care
About the platinum and gold
The cash and the clothes
The Lam or how fast that you drove

I don't care
About the mansions and homes
The Xans and the coke
And all that other trash you promote

I don't care
About the raps that you wrote
Or the fact that you don't
The man behind the pad is a ghost

I don't care
About the stats or the quotes
How you imagine you're dope
And you're surpassing the GOATs

I heard the rhymes you spit are good for the environment
'Cause you take other rappers' trash and recycle it
Make your dogs fight against each other like Michael Vick
Supposed to be your brother, undercover with a wire hid
Bet he try to snitch if it comes to your life or his
He's the type of bitch that don't stand when it's time to piss
Bad luck, we masked up before the virus hit
If he act up, the handgun's givin' viral clips
Rule with an iron fist; bitch, I'm a king to pagans
I have mastered every facet of the English language
These rappers mad 'cause their fans see their speech is basic
I fall asleep sedated every time your CD's playin'
This is prime time, check your favorite TV station
Fuck bein' famous, got no patience for these sleazy agents
I'm just tryin' release creative music for my recent playlist
Cease the hatred, you can keep debatin' which emcee's the greatest

I don't care
About the platinum and gold
The cash and the clothes
The Lam or how fast that you drove

I don't care
About the mansions and homes
The Xans and the coke
And all that other trash you promote

I don't care
About the raps that you wrote
Or the fact that you don't
The man behind the pad is a ghost

I don't care
About the stats or the quotes
How you imagine you're dope
And you're surpassing the GOATs
(That's laughable, bro)

credits

from Feast or Famine (The Second Helping Deluxe Edition), released September 20, 2022

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A Rapper Named Nati image

A Rapper Named Nati Three Rivers, Michigan

Three Rivers, MI, based hip-hop artist A Rapper Named Nati has been penning rhymes since 1996. He met Dutch producer Rob Maestro in high school, circa 2004. Fifteen years later, the pair have been anointed Self-Proclaimed Kings. (Pronounced “notty.”)

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