Waist Down (Extended Version)

Back in the day, all anyone did was overlook me.

Now, when they look down, they tryna’ pass the crown to where it should be.

Define a rookie.

Define it. I’ve been a boss since 13. No wonder why no one understood me.

All goodie .

All gravy.

Y’all say we’ve gone crazy, but we ain’t gone anywhere.

Except the places that pay me

Where everybody just praise me

So if you ain’t with A-team

You can suck a dick, get rabies, and then die.

Yea, right there.

I got a new idea.

I got a brand-new idea for you my dear.

If you don’t like being called stupid, stop being stupid, ’cause I’ma’ fucking call you stupid if you do that there.

Yea, I got some rappers confidence

For every fake fan with a backwards complement.

Master actors who matter not a bit.

Bomb has been set, detonation approximately now.


And I’ve been plotting on the low.

But I don’t really want to keep it on the low no more.

So I’ma’ need all of your hands in the air the goddamn second that I decide I want to go on tour.

Saying I don’t give a fuck.

I don’t give a fuck like I’m paralyzed from the waist down.

Waist down. Waist down. Waist down.

Saying I don’t give a fuck.

I don’t give a fuck like I’m paralyzed from the waist down.

Waist down. Waist down. Waist down.

Way down to rockbottom I send y’all. Token is a genius.

I don’t give a fuck; I’m on some paraplegic shit.

You feel me? I ain’t feeling y’all.

I got no feeling in my legs, wheelchairs I pop a wheelie on.

I am really on.

17 and I got funders with their hands out talking ’bout a million.

But I don’t take no handouts off air.

You don’t need to scratch my back; I got me a massage chair.

That’s right. Everybody act like they’re living the exact life.

Everybody tryna’ be like everybody, no one tryna’ be an individual and that’s like

getting a flashlight to mask light.

A blackeye to have sight.

A bad guy to act nice.

A traffic light to crash bikes.

An appetite to snack light.

An afterlife to flatline.

A rabbi to baptize.

And bragging on the Internet just means you got a fake ego filled with insecurities killing you and that’s why…


Oh, is that so?
The second I start having fun, Token’s an asshole.
They said I be doing the same shit, everybody wants something that’s new now, well right when I change it up, I’m whack though.
Oh, that makes sense, I got it.
Everybody have some fun, except the artist.
Everybody loved me when I recorded out of the closet
than a blog picked it up, yep, that’s garbage. Oh. I got some rappers confidence to every fake fan with a backwards compliment.
You think I slid that line in there with no consciousness?
I see the fake fans, I’m who they want a problem with.
Like I ain’t giving my all to this
when I am trying to alter this
questioning all of my motives when I’m just trying to make momma rich.
And I just want to see daddy happy, they just want to see bars and shit.
Consequence calling this confidence cockiness, God forbid.
God forbid I’m comfortable enough to switch the scene.
Sometimes I don’t want to walk down a little street.
With metaphor metamorphosis and similar similes.
Sometimes I want to fuck around dawg, I’m seventeen.
Sometimes I don’t want to be serious. Sometimes I don’t want to be Mr. Lyricist. Sometimes I wonder why they judge me. Sometimes I want to put a jet engine on a wheelchair ’cause I think it’s fucking funny.
And now they’re wondering if I’m still really that hungry.
They’re wondering if I’m getting comfortable, I feel on comfortable ’cause a second ago you motherfuckers loved me.
And I’ve been working harder than ever to get to the next level of flights.
You’re either afraid to let me go or you’re afraid of heights.
Waist down, waist down.
Let me spit a simple hook for everyone who ain’t staying around.
They want me to pigeonhole myself and fall. Show me where happinesses ’cause, it ain’t with y’all.