NoResponse

No Response (Explicit) - Tom MacDonald

Lyrics by：Tom MacDonald

Composed by：Tom MacDonald

I'm the rapper that these other rappers jealous of

I made more off CDs than rappers who are selling d**gs

True story every single aspect independent

I got texts from presidents and major labels I ain't read yet

Told my manager I'd knock him out and he was like "The homie"

Then I fired him if you're watching this I'm sorry dawg au revoir

I don't need nobody's help it's me and Nova by ourselves

"Come here babe" this is the entire team nobody else

I conceptualize produce and write like every record

Me and Nova work the hooks then they're mixed and mastered by Evan

This is homegrown shout out all the rappers who have thrown stones

I'mma die rich while your casket full of broke bones

I ain't gon' respond to all your disses look I get it

Your videos get no views you say my name and people click it

But I'm different you need clout and you're desperate to make a living

But my bank account already full I counted seven digits like

F**k y'all attack me with disses attract all the critics

I laugh at predictions surpass all the limits

The wacker the rapper the more he's angered by the fact that I'm winning

I'm stacking the millions it's tragic to witness like cancer in children

Aye no playlist no paid clicks no fake s**t

Rappers call me gay 'cause my braids pink

Your main b***h go crazy so wasted

Front row at my show I'm her favourite

I'm famous they basically hate that I made it

Get paid more in a day than they claim on their paycheck

I'm patient but say my name again I ain't playing

I'll buy the place that you're staying

Then raise the rent to the space and your parents' basement is vacant

They call me privileged y'all can't admit that I'm gifted

I did it without a label's assistance I made the business decisions

I overcame the addictions lived in the streets got evicted

Kicked it with killers and strippers but still my vision was different

I bought a mic started spitting produced the beats and I mixed it

I turned my hand into a fist and flipped a bird to the system

I prayed I'll finish my mission and keep my image consistent

I fixed the parts that were missing and switched the gas and the pistons

It's mathematics and physics I had to travel the distance

I had to add some ambition and then subtract my suspicions

I wanted castles and riches headed for caskets or prisons

I battled glasses of liquor and cabinets packed with prescriptions

And still these f**king rappers wanna sneak this

All over my Facebook always tryna tweet s**t

I ain't gonna keep this a secret my marketing genius

The algorithm triggered by exploiting your weakness

And y'all can call me clickbait and gimmicks I call me rich

A million monthly listens on Spotify suck my d**k

I'm about to drop a couple million dollars on the crib

Quarter million on a whip I just sent my mom a grip

And first of all I heard it all I could write a perfect song

I Google the net worth of rappers hating and I don't respond

Middle finger from a private jet I don't give a single flying f**k

Every single person I have met p***y in person on Twitter they tough

Yo if rappers wanna beef I got the roast pan

Put 'em in the dirt like a f**king UFO crash

Double time rappers mad I murder it with slow raps

All they do is go fast turn 'em to some ghost with the most facts