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Correct Hard (What Was I Thinking) Lyrics
Lyrics
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Artists: R
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Royce da 5'9"
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Correct Hard (What Was I Thinking)
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Lyrics:
Teacher, teacher I don’t understand what you even wanna talk for Unless an interpreter’s gon' come up there and talk for me Because we don’t speak the same language You say shit like “take up a trade and your thoughts bore me” You don’t teach me nothing, you just talk towards me I’m gon' need your assessment and fast Look around you, do I look anything like the rest of your class? Can’t you see that I’m special? I don’t act like these fucking crumb snatchers I don’t even breathe like ‘em I was born with my lungs collapsing I walked right up to the drug dealer in my class and asked him “How did you get such a bad bitch?” He said “it was hard and the best ones are the hardest to get” And I went on to see the world, and he went on and started the trick And now when I see his girl, she be on my dick I guess fucking the baddest bitches around wasn’t hard as I thought Man, what the fuck was I thinking? (Get Money) Jewelry and cars (cars, cars, cars) Achieving the highest level of success ain’t as hard as I thought (top the world) What the fuck was I thinking? (I was drunk) I was drunk or I was lost (You was lost) (Yeah) My people said it would be hard (Hard, Hard) My teacher said it would be hard (Hard, Hard) (It’s gon’ be hard) What the fuck was she thinking? Why did I listen to y'all? What the fuck was I thinking? My finest hour is here, this is what I see in my prayers This is me, though I’m facing and all of my fears Making all my enemies look in the mirror And see the meme of the Jordan face with all of the tears What most of you analysts ignore, it’s my explosive animal allure I went the way to get in the way of my wife planning the divorce Handled it and came back more talented than all these rappers Though I’m DiCaprio, all they have on me is the awards I’m a Steinway grand piano, they’re Casios, I will kindly pass them the torch The day that one of them are to hold a candle to my corpse I’ll put a hand on your whore, even if she ain’t my type And this song is inspired by Broadway play called Hamilton I saw that changed my life Right away, so my next move is to either scream write a movie or write a play I said fucking the baddest bitches around wasn’t hard as I thought Man, what the fuck was I thinking? (Get Money) Jewelry and cars (cars, cars, cars) Achieving the highest level of success ain’t as hard as I thought (top the world) What the fuck was I thinking? (I was drunk) I was drunk or I was lost (You was lost) (Yeah) My people said it would be hard (Hard, Hard) My teacher said it would be hard (Hard, Hard) (It’s gon’ be hard) What the fuck was she thinking? Why did I listen to y'all? I’m looking like the black Bond in Africa Hotel room look like a beautiful crime scene, in fact it’s a Spectacular Halle Berry, Vivica massacre Left behind by a serial bachelor Fall back, y’all, I really don’t fall back enough You’re not gon’ not sound soft to us The shotgun will throw a box of black balls at ya like Count Chocula That last line, I was just on my Pharoahe Monch Rappers, kneel before me like I’m trying to prepare a pun I’ll cut your body up and put it in two different cars Put it in the river, have you swimming in a pair of trunks Momma asking when I’m coming to the church My little brother asking for the Aston I threw the keys to him like I’m fronting up some work (Ha, good looking, Nickle) I used to not be a trendy guy Now I probably got more pairs of Balmain jeans than Wale and Envy got Ah, somebody pinch me Pardon me I learned that fucking the baddest bitches around wasn’t hard as I thought Man, what the fuck was I thinking? (Get Money) Jewelry and cars (cars, cars, cars) Achieving the highest level of success ain’t as hard as I thought (top the world) What the fuck was I thinking? (I was drunk) I was drunk and I was lost And you know what else Everybody ask me just because I'm a lyricist in this business How come I haven't gone broke yet? I tell 'em it's cause I'm the flyest backpacker ever I'm flyer than Mos Def in a Drumpf tower surrounded by four chefs Fixing him some salmon croquettes with Kendrick, Cole and Kweli In their dinner clothes, try me, you and your crew will bleed Y'all bums ain't shot for the stars since New Years Eve Nothing was given to me I had to go upside heads just to get upside hills Never over the hill though, so I never strike when the iron is hot I strike whenever the fuck I feel I eat what the fuck I kill I got this way from not being allowed to eat dinner If you knew how much I've lost, you'd have no problem with me winning How many times could I be reinvented? Money is the deadlier of the five venoms, in my denim Definitively got a widen 'em, garages with cars in 'em Hanging out in bars to have menages with bartenders God was an artist and Jesus was a carpenter They put me together like an easel in the darkness of hell And lost it and left me some loose screws, but These are the nails to your coffin These are the folk tales of a starving artist Battling demons through his notepad like Adam and Eve eating kale in the garden Flying private away from all charges
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