Everybody's Something (feat. Saba & BJ the Chicago Kid)

What's good good? And what's good evil?

And what's good, gangstas? And what's good, people?

And why God phone die every time that I call on Him?

If his son had a Twitter, wonder if I would follow Him

Swallow them synonyms like cinnamon Cinnabon

Keep all them sentiments down to a minimum

Studious gluteus Maxim models is sending him

Pics of they genitalia, tallied up ten of 'em

I slurped too many pain-kills down, I'm off a lot

I got a lot of off days, but it ain't often that I'm off the clock

Y'all know what I mean, I got the Chicago Blues

We invented rock before the Stones got through

We just aiming back 'cause the cops shot you

Buck buck, bang bang, yelling "Fuck Fox News"

Booyaka buckle up, motherfuck opps, too

Ain't no knuckling up 'em young 'cause it's just not cool

Nice to see you, Father New Year

Middle finger Uncle Samuel

Shooting death with weighted dice

And hitting stains on birthday candles

I know somebody, somebody loves my ass

'Cause they help me beat my demon's ass

Everybody's somebody's everything

I know you right

Nobody's nothing

That's right

Everybody's somebody's everything

I know you right

Nobody's nothing

That's right

Everybody's somebody's everything

That's right

Nobody's nothing, nobody's nothing (Right? Igh)

I know you're right

I used to tell hoes I was dark light or off-white

But I'd fight if a **** said that I talk white

And both my parents was black, but they saw it fit that I talk right

With my drawers hid, but my hard head stayed in the clouds like a lost kite

But gravity had me up in a submission hold

Like I'm dancing with the Devil with two left feet and I'm pigeon-toed

In two small point ballet shoes with a missing sole

And two missing toes, but it's love like Cupid kissing a mistletoe

Nice to see you, Father New Year

Middle finger Uncle Samuel

Shooting death with weighted dice

And hitting stains on birthday candles

I know somebody, somebody loves my ass

'Cause they help me beat my demon's ass

Like Cassius ducking the draft and now the fight is over

The type to love from a distance, not the type that told her

Spent three days on the rap, trash it and type it over

With babies on the block underarms like fighting odors

Coppers and quotas, hold ya head like 2Pac had taught, obviously, they are on a come up

With better chances tobogganing in the fucking summer

Concoctions for the bad days and a condom for the good ones

All odds against us, we tryna get lucky, doper than Lucky

You're ending happy, that's only a tugging

Like Satan masturbating, shit come hot, but y'all still love me

Ugh, how Father Time a deadbeat? Maybe I'm adopted

That'll explain why all of my shit been so timeless, igh

Everybody's somebody's everything, ****

Nobody's nothing, ****

Everybody's somebody's everything, ****

Nobody's nothing at all

Wu-Tang

Everybody's somebody's everything

That's right

Nobody's nothing

I know you're right