Chance The Rapper - I Might Need Security Lyrics

F*ck you
F*ck you, f*ck, f*ck you
F*ck you, f*ck, f*ck you
F*ck you, f*ck, f*ck you
F*ck you, f*ck, f*ck you (Yep)
F*ck you, f*ck, f*ck you (Na na)
F*ck you, f*ck, f*ck you (Na na)
F*ck you, f*ck, f*ck you (No)
F*ck you, f*ck, f*ck you

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 that your 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 than 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 expectin' resignation
An open investigation on all o' these paid vacations for murderers

F*ck you, oh oh
F*ck you, f*ck you
F*ck you, f*ck you, you, you, you
F*ck you, oh oh
F*ck you, f*ck you
F*ck you, f*ck you, you, you, you

F*ck you
F*ck you, f*ck, f*ck you
F*ck you, f*ck, f*ck you
F*ck you, f*ck, f*ck you
F*ck you, oh

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 Crain's 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 bitches out of business
Speaking of racist, f*ck 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 ass at your job
I'm the real deal
Who taught all these rappers that the big deal's not a big deal?
Inherited the earth, popped them wheelies on a big wheel
My enemy lives in his mother's basement
That's why my videos don't got no Baphomet product placement
I'm a real one
The honey is sweet, the apple's bitter
They'll try and convince you you stronger without your woman
Than when you with her
And tell you they kiddin' while Twitter trashin' 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 nigga, I'm a soldier
Kingdom builder, man somebody shoulda told ya
F*ck you

Oh oh
F*ck you, f*ck you
F*ck you, f*ck you, you, you, you
F*ck you, oh oh
F*ck you, f*ck you
F*ck you, f*ck you, you, you, you

F*ck you
F*ck you, f*ck, f*ck you
F*ck you, f*ck, f*ck you
F*ck you, f*ck, f*ck you
F*ck you, f*ck, f*ck you