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Is It Me Lyrics - Singles - Cyhi The Prynce

Is it me? Is it you boy? x3 

Is it really me? 

 

Cyhi! Yea! 

 

Is it me or do these rappers sound like Al Capone? 

If everybody serving bricks then who bagging zones? 

How can you rap about it on a song 

But get 25 years for rapping about it on the phone? 

Is it me or is these niggas telling stories 'Ye? (HUH) 

I done seen more D then where Berry Gordy stay 

Everyday I see a nigga snitch up on 40 

These dudes ain't gangstas, the just they just actors, Sidney Poitier 

Don't get me wrong my nigga, I endorse the streets 

But, you won't support your kids but go support the freaks 

Last night, at the club, you blew like a quarter ki 

But when the feds come, you can barely pay your lawyer fees? 

Is it me or do these niggas got the game backwards, huh? 

It's hard to explain rappers 

We get money to buy the chain that we slave after 

But we mentally still a slave to that same master 

 

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Oh, is it me? is it me? is it me baby? 

Is it me? is it me? is it me baby? 

Oh, is it me? is it you boy? is it really me? 

 

Is it really me cause I ain't really feeling these new rap niggas 

Pardon my soliloquies 

But honesty is what we really need 

When a crew full of cap peelers, but that wasn't really me 

I used to trap nigga with them nicks like I'm Willis Reed 

Dealing weed opened a lot of doors for me, chivalry 

Plus you get less time getting caught with this than with a ki 

In the streets it's hard for you to sleep like on Christmas Eve 

But silly me for ever thinking you was really G 

All these rappers selling birds, I swear this shit is killing me 

They have shackles on your wrist all the way down where your achilles be 

And ya'll still listen to it, is it me? 

 

Photos 

 

Most of your favorite rappers never shit 

It's clearly evident, the flow that I'm giving them heads heaven-sent 

Life could be as sour as pickles but you got to relish it 

And the lyrics that I spit is what I'm living 

And you embellish it 

Pay attention, nigga never had a pot to piss in 

Bragging about riches, they tripping, that's why I rarely listen 

Nigga you ain't never sold at all 

Or what you copped didn't [?] so you flexed and had them serving salt 

My future bright and it shining just like a bowling ball 

Respect the real, so they see me and never notice ya'll 

Is it me or is these niggas fake? 

And I can't relate 

I got partners doing dimes, it's like a bitch today 

So what I spit is serious, period, yea like I menstruate 

I paint pictures just like I'm selling them art 

And clip niggas up with these lines, now that's a hell of a part 

It's Tate! 

 

Is it me or is these niggas telling stories 'Ye? (HUH) 

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