Ballad Boy

I'm dressing just like a Beach Boy Pastel Pete boutta destroy Fits don't fit, call it decoy Pull up to a show, treat it like Troy Wait, wait, wait You're hearing something you cannot explain Tried to group me, I am not the same Tried to lose me, why'd you think I came? Huh, yeah I'm sick of them cutting my scenes Twenty seconds in And we're cooking with kerosene Bloggers talk shit on my mixes That's heresy Hm, babble on, babble on Hm, catch me in Babylon You haven't made shit I can't speak to you Tear down your towers I brought the view Get out of my way I'm taking aim Get out of my face Where the f*ck is your shame? Music's a trip What's in a name? You're loosing your balance I'm staying sane Up there ain't Heaven Heaven is this Listen real close This the new shit I am an opp I am a bitch I cannot stop, I cannot You're writing's shit I'm writing ballads, boy (F*ck, yeah) Hits on hits, I'm DJ Khaled, boy (Yeah, yeah) TM shit, I'm so balanced, boy (F*ck, yeah) Cut, cut out my set, get it cut, boy F*ck you, youse a no-talent bitch boy (Boy, boy, boy, boy) I'm floatin' just like a Beach Boy Pastel Pete boutta make noise One-thirty in, you cannot compete Your dewey ass wouldn't touch this beat I feel the heat, feel my lungs on fire Breathin' real deep, make your ass perspire Speak for myself, call it arson Speak for yourself, little sergeant I'm Paul the Apostle Catch me on some drums Preaching my gospel To all of you bums Investing in self I'm not talkin' 'bout funds Frontin' and stuntin' Just parts of the sum You love it too much, you might lose it That's why I f*ck with the music That's why I f*ck with the music That's why I f*ck with the music No more time, close my eyes I can't stand the sight of you Lookin' for signs Leave it to Christ What made you think he's tight with you? I feel like Zendaya I'm shakin' it up These beats are the only thing that I can trust You switch up your hi-hats And think that's enough? Nah, y'all got me fucked up You're writing's shit I'm writing ballads, boy (Huh, c'mon) Hits on hits, I'm DJ Khaled, boy (Yeah, yeah) TM shit, I'm so balanced, boy (Look, look) Cut, cut out my set, get it cut, boy (Get it cut) F*ck you, youse a no-talent bitch boy (Nah, nah) Huh, yeah, writing's shit, writing ballads, boy Hits on hits on hits on hits, DJ Khaled, boy Baby, check, check my levels, I'm so balanced, boy Opposition, that's some no-talent bitch boys (And now, for something a little different)