Chance The Rapper – I Might Need Security Lyrics

I Might Need Security Lyrics by Chance The Rapper

[Intro]
Fuck you, fu-u-u-u-u-uck, fuck fuck you
Fu-u-u-u-u-uck, fuck fuck you
Fu-u-u-u-u-uck, fuck fuck you
Yep, now now
Nah nah, no

[Verse 1]
I ain’t no activist, I’m the protagonist
I don’t co-captain it, I fly solo like one cup in the cabinet
The cab is the cabinet, they trust me at landing it
They call me the advocate, they’ll slide like the abacus
Boy meets world, everybody been savages
I just want to really know how much a drill shooter averages
I’m not no nice guy I’m just a good guy
The bad guys should really stay on my good side
I smell my roses younger than the good die
The Illuminati couldn’t see me with they good eye
They think they Heath Ledger scary, they just Jack Nichols
I’m a sign to my city like the Bat-Signal
Young chosen one, golden boy, De La Hoya
It ain’t too many me’s, rest in peace to Verne Troyer
I was younger then I seemed as a kid
I mean my G17 18 in the head
I mean I’m only 25 but I’m Motown 25
Bet I get a statue in my hometown when I die
And Rahm you done I’m expecting resignation
An open investigation on all of these paid vacations for murderers

[Interlude]
F–k you, oh o-o-oh
F–k you, f–k you
Fu-u-u-u-u-uck you, f–k you-ou-ou
Fu-fu-fu-fu fu, fu-fu-fu-fu-fu-fu
F–k you, oh o-o-oh
F–k you, f–k you
Fu-u-u-u-u-uck you, f–k you-ou-ou
Fu-fu-fu-fu fu, fu-fu-fu-fu-fu-fu
F–k you, fu-u-u-u-u-uck, f–k f–k you
Fu-u-u-u-u-uck, f–k f–k you
Fu-u-u-u-u-uck, f–k f–k you

[Verse 2]
I don’t get no paper I gotta sign at the bottom
Still in my bag like the fries at the bottom
And I can’t do nothing right, they gon’ always be at me
I missed a Cranes interview, they tried leaking my addy
I donate to the schools next, they call me a deadbeat daddy
But Sun-Times get in that Rauner business
I got a hit-list so long I don’t know how to finish
I bought the Chicagoist just to run you racist b—–s out of business
Speaking of racist, f–k your micro aggressions
I’ll make you fix your words like a typo suggestion
Pat me on the back too hard and Pat’ll ask for your job
And in unrelated news, someone’ll beat your a-s at your job
I’m the real deal
Who taught all these rappers that a big deal’s not a big deal?
Inherited the earth, popped them wheelies on a big wheel
My enemy lives in his mother’s bas-ment
That’s why my videos don’t got no bathroom and product placement
I’m a real one
The honey is sweet, the apple’s bitter
They’ll try to convince you you stronger without your woman than when you with her
And tell you they kidding while Twitter trashing your litter
I know the devil’s a liar
I know that players is quitters, I heard you hire your hitters
I know the higher the bidder, that mean the less on return
So I just hire a sitter
I’m not no boss n—a, I’m a soldier
Kingdom builder, man somebody shoulda told ya
F–k you

[Outro]
F–k you, fu-u-u-u-u-uck, f–k f–k you
Fu-u-u-u-u-uck, f–k f–k you
Fu-u-u-u-u-uck, f–k f–k you