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Correct No Superman Lyrics
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Pac Div
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Correct No Superman
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I already know I ain't invincible, we in these niggas' scopes Mama said the realest ones always got the strength to cope Fuck all the fame, we gon' leave the game with our soul Jedi mind and we ain't never changed, niggas know That's how the shit'll go, they build you up to back you down Though it's wrong, nigga chain smoking black and milds Four sips from blacking out, one song from Bill Gatin' Classics in the catalog, niggas still hating Not from trees but for cheese niggas still hanging Lost my heart with my brother but we still praying Life's a catch 22 Put the spark to my blunt, drown my stress in a brew [Chorus] I ain't Superman I ain't Superman I ain't Superman You ain't Superman I ain't Superman I ain't Superman You ain't Superman You ain't Superman We start out as tadpoles in mama's tummy And come out as assholes always wanting money It's me, myself, and all the ones who love me Cause when I'm on, they don't want nothing from me Superficial shit be bugging me like All the superficial bitches fucking me right We make the superficial sound lovely right I sell you a dream and you gon' fuck with me right Is this shit too smart? Am I saying too much? Is this shit too art? Is yo bitch that bad? Do you really put on, nigga is that yo car? Life's a catch 22 Put the spark to my blunt, drown my stress in a brew [Chorus] When that real shit gon' come back home, it's been decades Sick of this bullshit spreading over the airwaves My head hurting like I'm writing ten essays My head hurting like I'm fighting ten ese's Eyes hazy, blowing on kush crazy Less TV, more books lately, home body Flow godly, dreads look crazy Niggas think I'm from Da Bush Babees, bars make 'em push daisies Alpha, omega, problem and solution Intro and conclusion, the start and the finish In a tug-of-war with this art and this business That's why a nigga gotta play it smart with decisions Occult symbolism in this art, pay attention Pagan messages, these niggas lost their religions They some, false prophets, the rhyme profits They evade the truth, confront 'em, they go off topic Don't compare me to these pop objects You wouldn't compare Fred Segal to Hot Topic [All braids?] and beats, yep it's called logic Getting brain from freaks we meet at y'all college, just using raw knowledge Nag Champas, all conscious like Kweli Niggas think I'm Wale, women wanna parlay When I was down and out, ain't nobody wanna call me See me on my grind, now they all late But I ain't no Superman [Chorus]
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