All I Know Lyrics

[Verse 1]
I must've came out the womb with a blunt in my mouth
'Cause I've always been geeked
And ever since I can remember, these motherf*ckers been picking on me, telling me I look like a freak
Every time I would go to spit something
I‘d hear "Who the f*ck passed the mic to McLovin?"
Quit buggin' - you mad? Then bitch, suck it
‘Cause now that I get all this love, you get nothing

Long before touring had all my flaws praised
I got shoved in hallways and called names
But now soon as my song plays, they all wave 
Like “awe, thanks, bitch how do my balls taste?”
Now I got your main chick, legs open
No way, y'all get no play, Greg Oden
High-key, if they try me - Dej Loaf 'em 
I could make a f*ck boy swim good, Frank Ocean
Nah, but I ain't a gangsta, though
Just a smooth motherf*cker with amazing flow
So to each p*ssy in my city who didn't believe in me, man, I hope you get my thank you note

Now they feel me in Brooklyn and Michigan
‘Cause I stay with the lines and the hooks like a fisherman
So if you think you can cook me, then get your pen 
Bet you I won't even reply 
Looking back, man, my first demo sucked like dirt devils
But now all I do is win, I earn medals
I'm top floor, your ass is first level
And the cash? I keep a stash like Burt Reynolds

You're looking like a number one with the Mac Sauce
These rappers got me hungry like bath salts, they rap soft 
Yeah son, there's no one better, I'm that raw
And if there is, they must still be stuck in their dads balls

[Hook]
‘Cause all I know
Is y'all do not phase me, aye
And all I know, aye
Is Imma get mine

[Verse 2]
Now that I got fans, I got a salary
But how they want me to rap, don't always challenge me
So I try to compromise, this is a balance beam
That's why every track I make sound like it's Halloween 
Now these kids all think I'm a hot trend
I'm right next to Hopsin up in their top 10
But I'm not him, just ‘cause I might spaz
When I write raps I'm type cast and boxed in

I took a detour in a genre of Hip Hop
But I don't think I'm down with this pit stop
‘Cause I don't like blood and no, G I ain't a Juggalo 
The fans will hate because they can't relate, 
But I still love 'em though
But If you ain't about selling out for the air waves
You've gotta go to extremes for some spare change 
And that ain't a fair wage, but I ain't Claire Danes
So just to get their attention I've gotta wear fangs
Then of course they go crazy for that jazz
Vampire, white guy, raps fast 
The irony is that that shit was a gimmick, and really everything I did in that video was just half-assed
Nah, I'm just playing, who got the last laugh?
I still love that song through all the backlash
But I can't stick with the image just for the fast cash 
That'd be a problem for me and I ain't in math class 
Truthfully, Horrorcore can be the fakest scene 
All this shit's made up - it's f*cking Maybelline
But wait, the rest of these rappers are the fake ones…right? Yet we're still playing with make believe 
Oh, now y'all wanna act vulgar
And say “f*ck you” to a genre that stacked boulders
But a lot of y'all are rap vultures 
Don't play dumb, you know where this came from - it's black culture
But y'all don't have respect for the art form
Unless it's by “blessed by the Dark Lord”
And it sounds like cardboard, with harsh gore
And large swords, maybe gargoyles, as long as it's hardcore
And that's the truth, so go sit and spin
I'll flex 'til my arms soar before I spit a fib
And Imma keep growing, my real fans will love me for who I am 
Not just some shit I did

[Hook]
‘Cause all I know
Is y'all do not phase me, aye
And all I know, aye
Is Imma get mine

[Verse 3]
Yeah I'm the nicest
The only rapper that's hated more than Vanilla Ice is
f*ck a license
I got so much drive, the stick shift is attached to my right wrist
And so far, growing up in the O-R
It ain't a challenge to find rappers that go hard
But they all shoot for the moon, and still ain't no star
And I'm the closest thing so far
But I spot haters in the crowd like a sonar jet 
Talking shit even when I ain't spit no bars yet 
But they flow below par, and all my flows are wet
Bitch who got the juice now? Call me Omar Epps 
And I ain't Pac, but kid, it's so trippy
Like damn, how'd I get so big with no Diddy?
How'd I get fans out in New Zealand, but can't get love in my own city?
Pity - they say I'm corny and they call me a quitter
Probably ‘cause half these rappers girls follow me on my twitter
Or maybe ‘cause these rappers wanna be balling up on a shopping spree
But instead they're at the dollar tree and they're bitter
You can say he acts sweet, but don't diss him yet
One day, you might get your ass beat by the click he rep
Yeah, I'm like a gas leak, I'm nasty, but my shit is still too catchy 
It won't get respect
Should've made it classy, with jazz chords
Sang less, tried to act deep, and rapped more
But that was so last week, let's fast forward
And give my fans all the trap beats they asked for
So whether you a rap geek, or just popping pills
Bruh, let the facts speak and acknowledge skills
They say I'm just not clever
But you'd hate Nickelback even if they wrote the best song ever 
I guess it's all about image if you're the new school
That's why instead of listening, they just click it on YouTube
So if you rap conscious or you hollerin "soo woo"
Everybody's corny to somebody, so do you
And I don't give a shit who's around, hoe
I'll bump Taylor Swift if it sounds dope
It don't matter if it's Seal or it's Cee-Lo
Bitch, I put ears over ego
I guess I'm too different, but I don't care who diss
‘Cause my roof's missing, so homie that's useless
And the truth is, man, I don't give two shits 
And that's what my definition of cool is

[Hook]
‘Cause all I know
Is y'all do not phase me, aye
And all I know, aye
Is Imma get mine

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