[Intro]
M, m
[Chorus]
Looking at drunks sober
Looking at the sober ones drunk
Yesterday we were rapping in the underground
Yesterday we were broadcasting from the pit
Today we're broadcasting inside
No promises
I look at drunks sober
I look at the sober ones drunk
[Verse]
Fuck the flattery, I've got style
Noon, midnight, fuck the time, I'm good at it
I fry these bitches without spice
Kitchen, we're the kitchen
Made a cutlet before two in the afternoon
It ain't about the expensive shoes
I work till my feet hurt
I don't listen to no dumb ass, fuck their chairs
What's certain in your life is that it's just trouble
Awards are just a souvenir for my smokehouse
Fuck their certificates, fuck their pictures
Bring me the chips, the bullion
That shit sure is worth more than the tiles
Fuck standing by the tiles
I don't smoke sticky
Don't see no entrances but one gate
Don't need whiskey to make mud
Call me "Dirt Nowitzki."
The people around me don't change
People around me smile, but I realize who's sincere
Fuck the flip (Fuck the flip)
[Pre-Chorus]
Looking at drunks sober
Looking at the sober ones drunk
No promises
Looking at drunks sober
I look at the sober ones drunk
[Chorus]
Looking at drunks sober
Looking at the sober ones drunk
Yesterday we were rapping in the underground
Yesterday we were broadcasting from the pit
Today we're broadcasting inside
No promises
I look at drunks sober
I look at the sober ones drunk
[Outro]
Looking at drunks sober
Looking at the sober ones drunk
No promises
Looking at drunks sober
I look at the sober ones drunk