riddle me this

riddle me this

riddle me that

why if i wanna rap i need a strap?

a couple goons cookin' crack

posted up in the trap

i don't understand that

what if i wanna tell y'all that we never got to ball

'cause my stepdad was gone with a nose full of rock

and my momma used to work 40 hours on the line

probably thinkin' that i'm lyin' or i'm

how i'm a tell y'all to sell dope?

i watched the dopeman make my family broke

i understand that you're trying to survive

but my pops smokin' hard and i'm watching him die

so excuse me if i ain't trappin' on the beat

but i'm rappin' for that boy that got his mammy in the street

and she twurkin' for that rock

if my album never pop

i'll listen to that homie doc

he said

riddle me this

riddle me that

tell my why you lyin' in your raps

i know you tryna make a couple stacks

hear i'm rappin' 'bout the trap and you really feelin' that

but everybody know that you really from the 'burbs

and unless it's in a tree you ain't never seen a bird

you can front all you want

but it's never gon' work

'cause you just

and even if you get all the fame

the attention you want

people screaming your name

you be empty inside

and it won't mean a thang

'cause you just

go'n say what you want

but i'll tell you in the end

i don't never have to move

i'm at home in my skin

checkin' my head when i hear the record spin

i'm like

riddle me this

riddle me that

why you judging everybody where you at?

we know life is a wrestle

matter of fact

and i'm watching mr. perfect get slammed on the mat

see everybody know you ain't got it figured out

and when somebody fall you just kick 'em when they're down

you hide a whole lot of sin

but we ain't found it out

'cause you so good at

i know you really feel so guilty

never knew the lord

cling to things so filthy

so you point the finger at others so people won't see you

and say

he just "