Puff Daddy
JPEGMAFIA & Kenny Beats Lyrics
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Can you hear me? Hi
I got nothing, I'm a straight bitch
Whoa Kenny
Huh, huh, incredible
Uh, big whips, big guns (whoa)
No cash, no funds (hoe)
You are all my sons (my sons)
We don't claim you bums
This shit for the scum
I'm a pop act (huh)
I don't smoke sesh (nah)
I don't pack heat (huh)
I don't even make no beats (wow, damn)
I don't even got no gun, hoe, I'm like 28 (wow)
Kimber in my bag, too much on my plate
Look I'm tactless (ah) cash in a mattress (uh)
Three shots a hat trick (damn Peggy)
Blood on the canvas (shit, shit)
Heard your nigga a college boy
Caught him on campus
Hit that nigga in Eastern Time
He died in Central Standard
Hm, wow
Incredible (why?)
Big whips, big guns (whoa)
No cash, no funds
Hurry up, it's done (it's done)
You are all my sons (my sons)
We don't claim you bums
This shit for the scum, uh
I got no life
I got no life (no)
Can't switch up my code (nah)
Morale be too low
AK, SK (grrah)
Gat spit like KA (huh)
Hurry up, relay
Bitch, no face, no case (it's nasty)
Fuck 'bout what you moving (nah)
I'm on your couch like Rick Rubin
All of these cops, nigga, who shooting?
Bitch, we strapped like Duke Nukem (damn Peggy)
Pull up with the trey and we ain't hooping
Shoot you in the face, boy, go guard it
Fake rappers (huh), new targets (ah)
All of your songs got no market (nasty)
Bitch (niggard)
Big whips, big guns (whoa)
No cash, no funds
Hurry up, it's done (it's done)
You are all my sons (my sons)
We don't claim you bums
This shit for the scum, uh
Huh
Take that, take that, take that
Can't stop, won't stop
9-6 to millennium, forever
Let's go
The lyrics to JPEGMAFIA's "Puff Daddy" are a complex mixture of braggadocio and nihilism. The first line, "You think you know me? Can you hear me? Hi," hints at the fact that the rest of the song is going to be difficult to interpret. Peggy is effectively creating a character that is antithetical to what we expect from a rapper - there's no money, no guns, no production skills, and an overwhelming sense of apathy.
The chorus, "Big whips, big guns / No cash, no funds / Hurry up, it's done / You are all my sons / We don't claim you bums / This shit for the scum," mocks traditional rap tropes and the wealth, power, and influence that usually come with them. Peggy is almost declaring that he doesn't want to be included in the mainstream rap scene, and that he's comfortable rejecting those norms. He goes as far as to say that the music is only for "the scum," which is an interesting play on words. By embracing his own outsider status, he's suggesting that anyone who is traditionally "in" (wealthy, successful rappers) are, in fact, "scum."
The rest of the song continues in this vein, with Peggy boasting about dark and violent acts (shooting someone on a college campus, for example) while distancing himself from mainstream rap culture. "Puff Daddy" seems to be a parody of traditional rap music, but also a sharp critique of the culture that surrounds it. Peggy's character is uncomfortable with the violence and materialism, but still able to turn it into something hauntingly beautiful.
Line by Line Meaning
You think you know me?
Do you believe you understand who I am?
Can you hear me? Hi
Am I audible? Greetings
I got nothing, I'm a straight bitch
I have nothing and I am a coward
Whoa Kenny
Amazing production by the renowned producer Kenny Beats
Huh, huh, incredible
Remarkable!
Uh, big whips, big guns (whoa)
We have fancy cars and powerful guns
No cash, no funds (hoe)
Unfortunately, we are currently out of money and resources
Hurry up, it's done (it's done)
Finish quickly! It's over
You are all my sons (my sons)
Everyone here is under my guidance and protection
We don't claim you bums
We disassociate ourselves from individuals we deem unfit
This shit for the scum
Our music is for people we perceive as low-lifes
I'm a pop act (huh)
I'm a genre-blending performer
I don't smoke sesh (nah)
I do not participate in smoking sessions
I don't pack heat (huh)
I am not armed
I don't even make no beats (wow, damn)
I don't produce music, surprisingly
I don't even got no gun, hoe, I'm like 28 (wow)
I'm in my late 20s and I still don't own a firearm
Kimber in my bag, too much on my plate
I have a loaded Kimber pistol in my bag while being burdened with many responsibilities
Look I'm tactless (ah) cash in a mattress (uh)
I'm impolite and I keep cash hidden in my mattress
Three shots a hat trick (damn Peggy)
I can make three shots in succession, impressive isn't it?
Blood on the canvas (shit, shit)
There's blood on the artwork I made, oh no!
Heard your nigga a college boy
I heard your man is a college student
Caught him on campus
I found him at his school
Hit that nigga in Eastern Time
I shot him in an eastern time zone location
He died in Central Standard
He passed away within a central standard time zone area. Sad.
Incredible (why?)
Amazing, do you understand why?
I got no life
I have no purpose or relevant tasks to do
Can't switch up my code (nah)
I cannot modify my principles
Morale be too low
My courage and confidence are insufficient
AK, SK (grrah)
We possess AK-47 and SKS rifles
Gat spit like KA (huh)
Our gun fires just as fast KA subcompact pistol
Hurry up, relay
Quickly pass on the message
Bitch, no face, no case (it's nasty)
If we conceal our identity, there will be no consequences
Fuck 'bout what you moving (nah)
Who cares what you're selling?
I'm on your couch like Rick Rubin
I'm in your house, making myself at home as Rick Rubin did
All of these cops, nigga, who shooting?
Amidst these numerous police officers, who's discharging their firearm?
Bitch, we strapped like Duke Nukem (damn Peggy)
We are well-equipped with guns like Duke Nukem, damn it!
Pull up with the trey and we ain't hooping
We arrive with a basketball-style 3-pointer shot range weapon and intent to kill, not play basketball
Shoot you in the face, boy, go guard it
We would shoot one in the face, then proceed to play basketball with their head
Fake rappers (huh), new targets (ah)
We're targeting fraudulent rap artists now
All of your songs got no market (nasty)
None of the songs you make have an audience, and that's unfortunate
Bitch (niggard)
Dude/Man
Take that, take that, take that
Take my advice, receive it as you will
Can't stop, won't stop
Don't give up! Push through
9-6 to millennium, forever
From 1996 to the turn of the century and beyond, we're with you
Let's go
Come on, let's get started!
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Written by: Barrington Devaughn Hendricks, Kenneth Charles III Blume
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
@arkaanrafa7787
You think you know me?
Can you hear me? Hi
I got nothing, I'm a straight bitch
Whoa Kenny
Huh, huh, incredible
Uh, big whips, big guns (whoa)
No cash, no funds (hoe)
Hurry up, it's done (it's done)
You are all my sons (my sons)
We don't claim you bums
This shit for the scum
I'm a pop act (huh)
I don't smoke sesh (nah)
I don't pack heat (huh)
I don't even make no beats (wow, damn)
I don't even got no gun, hoe, I'm like 28 (wow)
Kimber in my bag, too much on my plate
Look I'm tactless (ah) cash in a mattress (uh)
Three shots a hat trick (damn Peggy)
Blood on the canvas (shit, shit)
Heard your nigga a college boy
Caught him on campus
Hit that nigga in Eastern Time
He died in Central Standard
Hm, wow
Incredible (why?)
Big whips, big guns (whoa)
No cash, no funds
Hurry up, it's done (it's done)
You are all my sons (my sons)
We don't claim you bums
This shit for the scum, uh
I got no life
I got no life (no)
Can't switch up my code (nah)
Morale be too low
AK, SK (grrah)
Gat spit like KA (huh)
Hurry up, relay
Bitch, no face, no case (it's nasty)
Fuck 'bout what you moving (nah)
I'm on your couch like Rick Rubin
All of these cops, nigga, who shooting?
Bitch, we strapped like Duke Nukem (damn Peggy)
Pull up with the trey and we ain't hooping
Shoot you in the face, boy, go guard it
Fake rappers (huh), new targets (ah)
All of your songs got no market (nasty)
Bitch (niggard)
Big whips, big guns (whoa)
No cash, no funds
Hurry up, it's done (it's done)
You are all my sons (my sons)
We don't claim you bums
This shit for the scum, uh
Huh
Take that, take that, take that
Can't stop, won't stop
9-6 to millennium, forever
Let's go
@DatDaDatty
the description "song prod. by a white man"
@Wilf_713
Dat SHOUOUT TO ZACKFOX
@BlinkTF2
he's white you know
@itselviz
@@BlinkTF2 no shit dumbass
@BlinkTF2
@@itselviz hey i'm just trying to be nice here
@llamapartyy
bruh, i miss seeing u in the comments 😏
@ChampionGold
Officer Beats is so deep undercover, he actually thinks hes a producer
@ThatOneGuy7550
He infiltrated EarthGang not too long ago at "The Cave"
@ChampionGold
That One Guy
My man that was an interrogation
@ThatOneGuy7550
@@ChampionGold holy shit