Skulls and crossbones and death bandanas
A liqueur store in every corner in Atlanta
Cops riding round tossing niggas in the slammer
Tell me what's wrong I could really use some answers
Nowadays everybody wants to be a rapper
About two years ago everybody was a trapper
Obviously money is what everybody's after
Cos slavery ain't changed it's a modern day disaster
Now these are my words from me to you
Everything you do from your shades to your shoes
From your chains to your coupe came from the two
Trust me I would know I was raised on the two
Ok, now let me just get your attention
Imma turn the tables so you don't get defensive
Imma put my bullshit aside for a second
Cos I cant be fake, cos God won't let me
I used to wear a grill because it was the trend
Not because I liked it, I just wanted to fit in
Then I got Eastside tatted on my skin
And I tried to get dreads but my hair was too big
But I was lost, I ain't know who I was
What else was there to do besides look like a thug

So in my senior year at Columbia High
I dropped out of High School when I got signed
B.o.B was the name, I ain't like Bobby Ray 'cause I was ashamed
But you can call me Bobby Ray from this day forth and
I could give a damn about the fame and fortune
Honestly I don't even listen to rap
'Cause when I turn the radio on, out comes crap
And if you make good music that's okay, but
On the radio that they don't play
Its easy to see we created a beast
'Cause everybody wants to hear what they don't need
And now all the rappers got a stoller to give you
That bullshit music so they can continue to live
The position that I'm in is quite an interesting predicament I will admit
But you can count on me cos I'm refusing to give in
'Cause Imma give you music cos we need it to exist, bitch
So imma play my guitar, rap about aliens and sing about stars
Til you understand that's what we are
So we ain't got to struggle no more so we don't starve
I swear to God I love you with every bar
We all got problems that need to be solved
So while I got the mic Imma speak my thoughts
And Imma keep it real til the day I fall

Copyright: Universal Music Publishing Group
Writer(s): Bobby Ray Jr. Simmons