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Nobody knows who will survive fame and who won't. This goes from the NFL Draft to the next big singer or rapper.

lyrics

Who Knows

Gimme all the fame and the glory, yea I want that
Trailblazing flames, from my launch pad
Shopping in Frontenac, jack, I flaunt cash
Hataz talking shit, but they taunts trash

I go the distance, persistent, I finish every inch
I never pop from pressure, whenever I’m in a pinch
I’ll never wake from this lucid dream I’m living in
Never mention submission, I’m never givin in

You’ll never see me, cuz I’m speedin in a tinted Benz
Cruising Missouri, St. Louis, I’m a billiken
This music is a revolution, truly, militant
Accusers stupid, looking foolish, cuz I’m innocent

Damn right, and I’ll never show’em caution
Fighting right through fatigue and exhaustion
Until I get the fame and claim a fortune
I want it all, I won’t settle for a portion

And I don’t give a damn whatever man hoards it
I’m holding the game ransom for extortion
It won’t exchange hands, unless I force it
Not even if I’m dead and gone pushing orchids


HOOK
Who can know
Who can know
Who can really know, what the future holds

I don’t really know, when truth be told
But I’ll let you know when the scoop unfolds

I got this feeling, I don’t really see it stopping
So I’m bout to blow the ceiling, get it popping
Tune ya TV to TMZ, if you watching
Cuz i7iu7e bout to be balling probably obnoxious

Like girl, oh you think I’m actin funny
I ain’t frontin, I’m just stuntin, we got money
I got a buzz, and it bee like we got honey
So quit trippin, get in the Bentley, is you comin



Oh you feel weird, being bourgeois
Honestly dear, I feel it too, ma
Nevertheless, lets hit Hawaii tomorrow
And peep the marine life, Hoo Rah

You better know, I’m investing in my future
Cuz when I get it, I won’t lose it being stupid
The FameMachine is a psychopathic guillotine
And I admit, the addiction, it might make me a fiend

And best believe I aint dying for a stupid cause
And I ain’t playing victim cuz of my human flaws
And I aint bugging, I aint drugging, I aint screwing broads
I’mma just take this fame and be a shooting star

HOOK
Who can know
Who can know
Who can really know, what the future holds

I don’t really know, when truth be told
But I’ll let you know when the scoop unfolds

I’m going hard til I’m buried in the grave yard
Unscarred by the fame, or a rape charge
No prison walls, or slander, even if hates hard
I’m only being known for spitting great bars
And hell no, joe, I never sold out
Cause I expose my soul every show sold out
I got what I asked for, wanna know how
Praying to God, got what asked for, no doubt

HOOK
Who can know
Who can know
Who can really know, what the future holds

I don’t really know, when truth be told
But I’ll let you know when the scoop unfolds

credits

from FameMachine, released April 22, 2017

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The Culprit Manifest St. Louis, Missouri

A global collective of musicians and artists based out of St. Louis who have come together to be The Culprit Manifest. They had a vision and I promised to help make it a reality. We have been asked to "name" our members but, respectfully, we will decline. They don't want to be divided and conquered. We refer to them as Agents W, X, Y & Z. Thank you for your support. Dream Big. Why you waitin' for? ... more

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