Lyrics
Uh, yeah
In defense of my art, I'd rather be Tony Allen than Questlove
In defense of my art, my target is March, Charles Dickens and DeBarge
Yeah, in defense of my art, being broke
Ain't an option unless you talking stocks
In defense of my art, running my own race
Not checking on your marks, what's up?
In defense of my art, I am Nat
LaCassa's Harlem Renaissance (say what?)
In defense of my art, you don't know
What I'm talking about, just bounce
In defense of my art, in defense of my art
People always talk when you shine your light
All I know is stars never work to shine bright, alright
In defense of my art, in defense of my art
People hate and love what they can't be
I'll never lose sleep just cause they ain't me, nah
Fresh out the gate I was writing for a living
Bills wasn't late, got my jobs from the lyrics, yeah
And I spit it like I had an apple stuck in my Adam's apple
Evenings I had 'em jumping out windows
Had 'em tripping, no grasp of the vision
No charts but I charted flights past city limits
City critics say I'm AC/DC but they
Ain't seeing me, I'm A.C. and Run DMC
Mr. Wear a Tee, been like World E since Bin
Laden been trying to blow up the world, T
Back when Hon C was shaving off Run's tee
Was making frogs un-comfy with the smart shit
You can hear crickets from how they didn't feel it
No matter how you spin it, I had 'em at sixes
Killer pimp from the fuck I wasn't giving
I tell 'em you should listen, shut up and bounce with it
In defense of my art, in defense of my art
People always talk when you shine your light
All I know is stars never work to shine bright, alright
In defense of my art, in defense of my art
People hate and love what they can't be
I'll never lose sleep just cause they ain't me, nah
Fresh out the gate, I was live from the bass line
They didn't take to it, classics take time
I found my lane out in Scandinavia
Now we stay in white hoods like hate crimes
Fuck being famous, I want paper, but more greatness
I'm here trying to make art, not make it
They say it's weird I don't sound like Mavis
But I'm not Cambridge neither, a painted
Zebra, coconut, I'm Joseph's, I'm the one
Who wanna claim Jesus, I make genius
Photos of me with the polo on, clean cut
GQ with an IQ, I think, yup
I give you life through haikus that mean much
Go seek mine on iTunes, no free lunch
Tell 'em if they ask you why, shut up your lip, bounce
Please, don't even try get it
If it's way over your head, then it's fine, just forget it
And just bounce, from the ground to the ceiling
In fact throw 'em up if you aroused by the feeling
And just bounce, we ain't even gon' beef
If you ain't about that life but I hope you don't sleep
Instead bounce, to the drum roll ripping
808'S banging like, oh, motherfucker
In defense of my art, in defense of my art
People always talk when you shine your light
All I know is stars never work to shine bright, alright
In defense of my art, in defense of my art
People hate and love what they can't be
I'll never lose sleep just cause they ain't me, nah