Louisville Slugz
Superstar
Read Caption 

I listen to ignorant music and listened to it growing up but I have the wherewithal to determine what's real and fake and most people don't seem to be able to do that.
Correct.
You could even say hood ninjas are no different than WS.
Gen Z don't have that discernment. Millennials remember the world before social media and the internet where clout would get your ass lit up with NO fanfare. NO video. NO nothing. Your ass would be a cold case.
When the NORM is display all your foolishness for the world to see, then the default reaction to everything is also foolishness. Compound that with the toxic music (which as said before they can't tell what's for show and what isn't), mix in a little bit of poverty and getting a megaphone on anything you do an boom. We got a recipe for disaster.
OYAHYTT Lyrics
[Hook]
Oh yeah, alright
Hell yeah, that's tight
Oh yeah, alright
Hell yeah, that's tight
Hey hey hey hey
Hey hey hey hey
[Verse 1: Boots Riley]
I'm Boots Riley, they ain't merc'd me yet
Gon' get shyt popping like Percocet
Got pent up anger that ain't surfaced yet
Two stepping like the boss dispersed the check
Imagine this hymn is a hand grenade
Asphalt sheet rock serenade
Jack and Coke is the marinade
But we sober up quick at the barricades
Joint in my mouth, pass the fire
Everything out they mouth is a pacifier
I'm not preaching, ask the choir
The green one, the red one, mash the wire
Capital camouflaged with fashion
Fasten the shelltoes on to the assassin
Dash in security, mall expansion
Whatever I wear, know I'm here to be clashin'
[Hook]
Oh yeah, alright
Hell yeah, that's tight
Oh yeah, alright
Hell yeah, that's tight
Hey hey hey hey
Hey hey hey hey
[Break]
We came to bleed electricity
We came to bleed electricity
[Verse 2: Lakeith Stanfield]
It's a celebration
Just got mail for the sales I'm making
Dressed up, I'm Big L, tell the neighbors
We the new beat party, don't stop the rage
It's profit, boss shyt gains
You know me, I been killing the pain, feeling the rain
When I'm feeling this I'm feeling estranged, venomous rage
Getting into this, filling the page, criminal gangs
Do my nikka shyt, militant aim
Brrrrah, gimme that change
I got a bullet and I'm willing to bang
Get your ass so benedict you're willing to get slain
Get dangerous with me, baby
Wanna see to blame me who with big black reins
Beat change, switch lanes on the L train
Get your brain blown back, that's a 12-gauge
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[Hook]
Oh yeah, alright
Hell yeah, that's tight
Oh yeah, alright
Hell yeah, that's tight
Hey hey hey hey
Hey hey hey hey
[Verse 1]
I'm bored
You holler for your new favourite celebrity; it’s [?]
You knowin' you ain't ballin’ in them Jordans, what a dork
Wonder why I'm rollin' up the tinted on the porch
You nikkas need awards for this fake shyt, it's war
Everybody runnin' toward the police
Hoes get they hoes drove in with no grease
So it goes, suicide, and I'm so asleep
Bullets fly, got my mind on my own bees
Hang the phone, open road, can't control my speed
Rollin' slow, at the stove, tryna’ be like me
I don’t post, I just go, on the 4-5-3
Never post, I just go, on the 4-5-3
[Bridge]
All Gucci, all Louis, don't you wanna make a movie?
fukk it, kill it, throw it in the bag
All Gucci, all Louis, in the movie
fukk it, kill it, throw it in the bag
All Gucci, all Louis, don’t you wanna make a movie?
fukk it, kill it, throw it in the bag
All Gucci, all Louis, [?] coochie
fukk it, kill it, throw it in the bag
[Chrous]
Automatic, with the static, way too tragic nikka
Automatic, with the static, way too tragic nikka
Automatic, with the static, way too tragic nikka
Automatic, with the static, way too tragic nikka
Clutch the grip, hit the switch, whip it back out
Clutch the grip, hit the switch, whip it back out
Clutch the grip, hit the switch, whip it back out
Clutch the grip, hit the switch, whip it back out
[Verse 2]
Peelin' out, Paramount, leavin' stains
Press play, this insane in ya' brain
I’m black, I'm Atlanta, I'm the hall of fame
Insecure, you afraid, you's a Charlemagne
bytch, that p*ssy shyt that run your lips
I'm born a trip
I'm mixing up my blood with drugs and guns and gangster Crips
I'll fukk you till you raw dog, licking up the sick
It's just the way I live, I'm a dikk
Blicky-blackout, let's get the party crack-out
Some people wanna fukk
I'll shake it like a blue flame, you fukkin' with a thug
I bet you better bag-back before I pull the plug
And touch you where no man has, baby I'm in love
For the record, I'm deleted, I know nada
No sign of me speaking no English to the copper
[?] papa
You ride and get dropped off
Had a trick so quick that click that bytch get ride for her dropout
Woop, woop, woop, woop
Them suicide doors
Stacking up my motherfukking bands to the Lord
As soon as you enter our desert you stand where you fall
Trip and you crumble, I wreck it
You fast but I'm more, fukk it
[Chrous]
Automatic, with the static, way too tragic nikka
Automatic, with the static, way too tragic nikka
Automatic, with the static, way too tragic nikka
Automatic, with the (static), way too tragic nikka
Clutch the grip, hit the switch, whip it back out
Clutch the grip, hit the switch, whip it back out
Clutch the grip, hit the switch, whip it back out
Clutch the grip, hit the switch, whip it back out
[Outro]
fukk it, kill it, throw it in the bag
Back out
fukk it, kill it, throw it in the bag
Back out
fukk it, kill it, throw it in the bag
Back out
fukk it, fukk it, throw it in the bag
Read Caption
I listen to ignorant music and listened to it growing up but I have the wherewithal to determine what's real and fake and most people don't seem to be able to do that.
TAKE THAT DRESS OFF.
can’t you argue playing @Paper Boi’s weed carrier is glorifying hip hop![]()