black sheep

Seems like nobody ever understands me.

It feels like not a single person can understand me.

The only players left are me and my friend.

The only players left are me and my brothers.

But we don’t mind.

But we don’t care.

We do just fine.

We’re doing well.

How can you rhyme without me?

Without me, how can you “rhyme”? (wordplay)

I don’t deny—I must be

I don’t deny it—I have to be.

the black sheep of the family.

The “black sheep” of our family.

But we gon fxxx with the wolves.

But we run with the wolves.

The product’s extremely ****.

The work is undeniably high quality.

Add flavor—guaranteed to get you hooked.

Add a bit of our signature and you’ll get addicted.

Before you know it, before you know it,

Before you’ve even truly heard about it,

we already sold out.

We’ve already sold out the “product.”

No slogans—just sharpening blades on the track.

No slogans—just sharpening blades on the track.

Everyone’s afraid of water; I stand on the shore and haul in big catches.

Everyone’s afraid of water; I stand on the shore and haul in big catches.

You’re a raindrop hitting the ground; I’m raising waves.

You’re a raindrop hitting the ground; I’m raising waves.

Only when it’s too late do you realize it’s too late to patch things up.

Only when it’s too late do you realize it’s too late to patch things up.

Too late, too late, too late.

Everything is too late.

Black sheep—you know we gang up.

“Black sheep”—we’re united.

Too late, too late, too late.

“Black sheep”—we’ve already gotten moving.

Black sheep—you know we gang up.

“Black sheep”—we’ve already gotten moving.

(Sample source: Scarface.)

(Sample source: Scarface.)

You all are a bunch of fxxx a-holes.

You’re all a bunch of assholes.

You know why?

Do you know why?

You don’t have the guts to be what you want to be.

Because you don’t have the courage to do what you want to do.

You need people like me.

You need people like me.

You need people like me so you can point your fxxx fingers

You need people like me, because you can point at me and say,

and say that’s the bad guy.

“That’s the bad guy.”

What does that make you?

Then what does that make you?

Good?

The good guys?

You’re not good.

You’re not good people.

AThree-Arslan:

AThree-Arslan:

Black sheep, white heart, black runner.

A kind-hearted “black sheep,” like a black running horse.

I won’t even flinch in a golden net.

Keep dragging me, keep cursing me—I don’t care.

Call me Dora or Ora Cola—whatever.

Keep imitating me, keep belittling me—I don’t care.

Until my body passes from hand to hand—“I’m true.”

Until I stop breathing, I’ll stay the truest version of me.

I’ll keep walking through your neighborhood without stopping.

You can carry my body through your neighborhood, through the crowd.

“Enough—don’t get cocky; learn from that guy.”

You say, “Don’t be conceited—learn from so-and-so.”

Wait, wait—am I the one poisoning you?

Would I really be the one harming you?

If you had sense, you’d know the thoughts I share are worth gold.

If you’ve got a brain, you’ll know I’m sharing ideas with real value.

But in this world, even gold has lost its worth,

But these days it feels like gold isn’t worth much either.

“Red-eyed,” “white-eyed wolf,” “crazy,”

You call me jealous, ungrateful, insane?

In a year, five years, ten years—will you regret the words from that mouth?

I guarantee in five or six years you’ll want to slap that filthy mouth of yours swollen.

I know you—I can read whether your heart is joyful, down, or lost.

Because I know best whether you’re happy, depressed, or confused.

So I realized: waking someone who’s asleep is a mistake.

You taught me a truth: people dreaming will hate the friend who wakes them.

****—fine then, keep sleeping, ELLEY.

Damn it—fine, then keep sleeping.

What do you know? You’ve never even come near the kinds of games I’ve seen.

You’ve never seen what I’ve been through—how could you understand my hardships?

So I won’t blame you—I’ll pour a glass of wine.

So I won’t blame you—I still want to raise a drink to you.

If you spit in my face with your old coldness, I’ll take it as a “gift”—I already have a mole there.

If you don’t appreciate it and spit on my face, I’ll treat it like a gift—I’ve already got a mole on my face.

Black sheep—these words carry truth in a short “tick-tick.”

Black sheep? Truth is hidden in this short beat.

Talking big like a real ****? I’m the technician—who are you?

I’m the technician—who are you?

Hey, saying “I’m king” doesn’t make you Jon Snow—though you might be like him: you don’t know nothing.

Just because you think you’re king doesn’t make you Jon Snow—if anything, you might be like him and know nothing.

Worthless rapper nobodies, shut your mouths—I don’t want no judging!

All you no-value, nobody rappers, shut up—you don’t have any right to even mention me.

yamghurotkenoy (prod by TemptGod)