"Dear Labels! (Original)" lyrics - HOBO JOHNSON

[Intro:]
I hope you're all right
I hope you're all right
Hey, why did the chicken cross the road?
To slap the penis out yo mouth

What the deal with young chickens?
I want an older chicken who knows that grown business, you know?
I'm narcissistic, look at me
I'm an artist EBT
Couldn't help the fact I'm starving for that MTV
And a deal, but a 360 one at that
But it'd be pretty shitty, I'd be sitting pretty where I'm at
Pay my rent and I'll sell you my soul
If you could please just trade it for a french bread roll
I'm fucking starving, look at me
Now, dear labels, can't you see?
I'm the one that fucking bleeds tears and sweats every day of the week
Now, look at me
I won't write you a fucking pop song
But I'll write you an analytical thesis about your mom, and why she's a great woman
Look at me
I want it more than anything else than I could ever fucking be
Look at me
Now look at me
I can kinda play piano but, but, but not really
Look at me, look at me, look at me
Look at me, look at me, I'm all right
Right?
Look at me, look at me, look at me
Look at me, I'm all right
Right?
Yeah
And on a day that's not so far
You're gonna hear me whether you like it or not
On a day that's not so far
You're gonna hear me whether you like it or not, whether you like it or not
I'm 2015 Fat Joe, who just did seven and a half years of straight cardio
I'm rap game's house, except I'm not a doctor though
Wow!
I'm everything they'd ever want
If all they want is a rapper that calls his mom daily
Just to see what's going on, 'cause he misses her
And she misses her baby

[Outro:]
Please help me
Please help me buy my mom a house that I can go to every fucking weekend
Please help me buy my mom a house that I can go to every fucking weekend
Please
Look at me, look at me, please