Testo Mission Statement - B.o.B
Testo della canzone Mission Statement (B.o.B), tratta dall'album No Genre 2
Ladies and gentlemen, gentlemen
Consider this moment the genesis
This is the part where you flip the
Fuck out as you feel the adrenaline
I'm only here to give you the experience
Oh what an experience
They probably shoulda prescribed me with Ritalin
But fuck it, rumor has it ADHD wasn't real, it was just an experiment
All of these years I was taught to be ignorant
Tryna figure out why I'm so different
Modern day life is set up like a pyramid
I was sleep but I woke from the ignorance
Wake up now tryna sell me a membership
Shittin' on niggas so much that I'm hemorrhaging
Your bitch at my concert auditioning
She want me to buy her some booty shots
But I can't fix her flat, I'm not Michelin
My mind's overflowing with images
So many thoughts I could never remember them
But I never forget to go straight to the source
I learned to cut out all the middlemen
I got no patience for you basic
Time is dwindling, you just ain't interesting
No strangers inside of the organization
That shit is strictly prohibited
The music industry is sickening
But no one will ever admit the shit
These niggas ain't making the numbers, they
Making shit half of these niggas pretending it
Bands!
Yo, fuck a hater, fuck a genre, No Genre
You can't box it in
They tried to box me in, but they couldn't box me in
They tried to describe me, but they just
Still can't describe me to this day
You'll never be able to describe me
No Genre, No Genre, No Genre
The Label
Why do I bother?
Spending time gathering thoughts up
The groove I go a little bit harder
I'm like Jesus on a microphone, I make vodka from water
Kinda like Jimmy Carter, just a little bit darker
The rap game just got a little bit smaller
I just lay down the facts
So lay down and stay down and stay off my sack
Niggas said I ain't dope, need to lay off the crack
Bustin' like a motherfuckin' AR with lasers
Drop a fuckin' bomb on a radar like Adolf is back
I blow a state straight off the map
Hundred round ricochet when the stray rounds come back
Gotta go and get this paper, I can't hang out to chat
Where the, where the, where the players at?
Bring the paper back
Runnin' through the racks like a motherfuckin' pyromaniac
I need a lady that ain't a basic brat with a crazy gap
With a decent booty hanging out the back
Give that thing a smack like an angry black
But before I smash gotta wear a safety hat
Bobby rated mack, Bobby rated mack
My east side southern flow, had to bring it back
Now motherfuckers acting conscious and shit
Just cause you dress like a hippie
Attending the Coachella concert and shit
Don't make you no different than me cause
I happen to like making money and shit
I'm just being honest, I never make
Promises, I just pay homage and shit
No Genre, you bitch
Bands!
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