[Verse 1: T.I.]
My cup runneth over with Pinot Grigio, hold up!
You bogus in the Lambo if you ain't liftin' the door up,
You bogus poppin' pills if you ain't pickin' the ho up,
You bogus runnin' out on your kids, my nigga, grow up.
For God's sake, like a wedding cuttin' large cake,
For large stakes let the hammer bang broad day.
Ay! Nevermind what the blogs say.
This what my mind and my heart say.
My philosophy: profit off of my properties,
Get it, flip it, we got to be rich, that broke shit is obsolete,
Possibly off of my rocker, watch how you watching me,
Sophisticated, psychotic, fly as a pilot,
Officially silent, all you wish you could get I got it,
Unlimited titanium nigga, what's in yo wallet?
Out of gladiator college, I made it summa cum laude,
While you clowns couldn't have got a cap and gown if you bought it,
I parlay with Saudis, buyin' crude oil and diamonds,
Hustle January, July fly to Dubai,
A broke nigga tellin' me ‘bout how I'm dividin' the pies,
Like a blind nigga tellin' me, it's an eye for an eye,
Bullheaded and stubborn, I be that way until I die,
But find a nigga with more hustle, then me I dare you to try.
And according to the hand on my Audemar
It's my time to shine so fuck y'all!
[Hook]
What should I be sorry for?
Who should I be sorry to?
What should I be sorry for?
Who should I be sorry to?
The fact is you can't please everybody,
You can't please everybody.
What should I be sorry for?
Who should I be sorry to?
[Verse 2: T.I.]
I grew up in the gutter, life a motherfucker,
I get that why I don't trust a motherfucker,
Seen a nigga snitch on they mom, shoot at they brother,
Go to prison in love with a bitch and a nigga fuck her.
I seen real G's destroyed by real suckers,
Innocent ladies raped and defenseless babies abducted,
Such a horrible truth, but you see it over and over,
It's nothin'. You numb to it and your heart grow colder,
Pacify your pain with a chain and a Rover,
Fuck it! Justify your action by stackin' your dough up,
You show up with a brick of cocaine and baking soda,
Just enough for me to blow up, nigga, hold up;
Switch the flow up, ‘cause these niggas be snitchin' so much,
I promise, all they missin' is the badge, coffee and donut.
Go to jail, so what, never see my integrity perish,
That ain't the Harris' way, study my pedigree.
Promise I'm one of the only ones who keep it 100,
Probably why I think, they all out to get me, you can't convince me,
Large money and fame will plant seeds of envy,
To make my partners resent me enough to come and get me,
Catch me slippin' and hit me, just like they did 50,
‘Cause I'm in the position that he think he should be given.
Listen, dawg, the fact of the matter is
I'm on a narrow path and we all can't travel.
[Hook]
[Verse 3: André 3000]
What it ain't? What it is?
Even if you gotta live,
I learned that apartment is way more excitin' than a big ass house on a hill.
I used to be a way better writer and a rapper
When I used to want a black Karmann Ghia.
Now a nigga speedin' in a Porsche,
Feelin' like I'm going off a course.
Cut these fuck niggas off,
Negative in my life, scream that till I'm hoarse.
Duck these, get the fuck off me projectiles; bitch, you ain't really got a choice.
I'm livin' my life, live yours,
I don't even like rappin' fast, but that's how the word come to me,
Talk to me sideways, nigga, that's your ass,
Slow it down. This that shit that'll make you call your momma,
Say, “Hey, I'm sorry for beggin' for all them clothes you couldn't afford.”
And this the type of shit that'll make you call your rap partner
And say, “I'm sorry, I'm awkward, my fault for fuckin' up the tours.”
I hated all the attention so I ran from it,
Fuck it if we did, but I hope we ain't lose no fans from it,
I'm a grown-ass kid, you know ain't never cared about no damn money,
Why do we try so hard to be stars just to dodge comments?
And this that shit that'll make you call your baby mama,
When you gone on half a pill, don't know why, but that's how it is,
Then you take a flight back to the crib, y'all make love like college kids,
And you say all the shit you gon' do better, we can try this shit again,
‘Round the time the dope wear off, you feel stupid, she feel lost,
That's that dope, I mean, I mean dopamine, you think, Cupid done worn off.
Waiting in the hallway with her arms crossed,
Baby boy face full of applesauce,
Maybe should have stayed but it ain't yo fault,
Too much pressure, I peel off. I'm sorry.
Was young and had to choose between you,
And what the rest of the world might offer me, shit, what would you do?
Well, I'd probably do it differently if second the chance,
Only if some cool ass older man would've let me know in advance.
This, this quarry, that is dug so deep in a father's chest
When he feel that he's broken up his nest,
And he figured shit he was just doing the best that he could,
Which end up being the worst that he could.
And all some pussy nigga on the Internet can say is that verse ain't good.
It's boring. Boring?
Really?
Well, I'm disgusted with this world and I can hardly breathe, and
Told so many lies, don't know what to believe.
I discussed it with this girl, and this is what she said,
She said, "Lay down, baby, baby, rest your weary head up."
Love these distractions but my mind don't wanna rest,
But my body disagree, so I laid up on her breasts, yes,
Oooh, you so fuckin' fine.
I woke up the next morning with new purpose on my mind.
Oooh, who pulls your ponytail?
Who knows your body well, huh?
[Outro:]
What should I be sorry for?
Who should I be sorry to?
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