Correction Paroles Lu’s Interlude par Lupe Fiasco

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Paroles

That's what you won't do

The mind's all a flutter, no pigs on the gig
No swine for the supper
No wine in the cupboard
Everything of mine must show signs of the suffer
And keep you abreast of the utter, struggle
To keep it all fresh like tupper
One of the tougher ginger bread men out the cutter
Skin ain't Huck Finn but I ain't n***a Jim motherf**ker
I'm more like Clubber, from the upper cut of the gutter
Never kow tow I won't bow down to the bull like Calcutta
That ain't what I'm rapping for
I'd rather be a matador
So ta ta, rathеr raw
I know that sounds f**ked up like a repеrtoire
But there's no Ruth's Chris if I lose so I choose
To keep em seeing red like crips and pirus
He the guy who rides the haikus
Schooled at Cooley High, who has the not to
Till its time to rise up, ride for our views
Tired of all the lies won't abide by ya'll rules
AK's and IQ's, so my skies are light blue
To move towards it I had the root for it
Like the home team, now they all lean
Singing that Queen Somebody To Love rap, city Boheme
We all champ-eens; you don't wanna bite the dust
Better stay on your scene
I drop the lyric, Woodbine, Bokeem
You can doc*ment it, Columbine bowling
I got the spirit, I require no wings
A fly MC, riveting my passions
To buy pro wings, then wear 'em on the cover of your magazines
Feeling real Yeti in my size fourteens tryna trump to lean, blue

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