Chance The Rapper - The Writer [paroles]

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Chance The Rapper - The Writer

Paroles: The Writer


Niggas try and come at me and like shit like

Like I only write slow songs and I only write

How many of y'all are fucking with me with a pen, really?

I'm a writer, probably as good as Elton John

But what's right and good for it if it ain't helpin' moms?

I'm trying to feed Japan while seeing sights in Lebanon

And wiping away tears to the girls that's getting felted on

I'm trying to get my felt pen on, but the Block is hot

My answer is questioning if I'm Bach or not

If I'm Chewbacca non-existent to these Juggernauts

But I'm an architect, an astronaut, an argonaut

So hey you, get off my couch

You don't know me stay the fuck out my mouth

But I'm a writer you can quote it out loud

A false poet, get my dough and I'm out

But here's an eighth of shrooms for your earlobe

A little rap wrapped in cigarillos

A little bit of Wu Tang mixed with some Henry David Thoreau

A little povitery(?) you can pound on your pillow

This is for the day that your dad dies

But for some reason all you're hearing is sad sides

And searching for the style that is sad, you can't cry

So you check your ipod and search for some bad vibes

From that rap guy who raps over sad vibes

I wrote it in an hour dog, don't know what your dad's like

He probably was a great dad, he's probably in paradise

You want me pending heartbreak, cause sadly I can't write


This is for those that wrote suicide notes

And all the hipster girls that were superfly dope

You looking at her nose what you do beside cope

You looking at her palms what you do besides dope


Life is but a supersize note

I opened up my mind like a suicide door

And grab a pimp cane and a superfly coat

Have them bobbing they heads for something stupid I wrote

I hope