Formula

Lyrics

[Intro] (I don't think they're all [?]) Ayy [Hook] When I walk up in the scene, I hear a orchestra Now everybody tellin' me I don't perform enough (Nah) My math teacher told me that I'd never be shit (What, ayy, what?) And now I'm searched more then the quadratic formula (Ayy, ayy, ayy) Ayy, I got the formula, I got the formula (Nah) You got the sauce, but goddamn, I got the formula, ayy (Got the formula, ayy) People always askin' "Ben, why you record so much?" ("Why?") I got to fry up all these rappers quick, like "Order up" (Ding!) [Verse] Formula, like I'm Mr. Krabs I change and transform it up, you stuck in the past I wear Supreme goggles to my science lab (I really do) Yeah, it hurts to write this song 'cause I don't like to brag (Nah) And now I've tied myself up, like a Nike Mag' People love to criticize me for the life I've had (True) They make it 'bout white and black, like I'm Michael Jack' (Ayy) I make these haters look confused, like it's Dora askin' where Swipper at, ayy, ayy, ayy (Wow, ayy) Yeah, I'm supreme, 'cause I got it on me, now they copy that like a walkie-talkie And I'm feelin' like they really want to stop me, tryna fold my paper like it's origami Wanna justify the hate, they call me cocky, and I am 'cause your girl call me "Papi" Tryna take her shot like it's the paparazzi, I'm a fax machine, there been a lot of copies Ayy, still sayin' "Who woulda thought?", like, who woulda guessed it? Heh Haven't lifted weights in two years, but somehow, I'm always flexin', yeah If you really want to find the answer to your question, here is where you should look: Want the secret to the sauce, motherfucker? Better go and find a cookbook Yeah [Hook] When I walk up to the scene, I hear a orchestra (What?) Now everybody tellin' me I don't perform enough (I don't perform enough) My math teacher told me that I'd never be shit (Nah) And now I'm searched more than the quadratic formula (Ayy, yeah) Ayy, I got the formula, I got the formula (Ayy) You got the sauce, but goddamn, I got the formula, ayy (I got the formula) People always askin' "Ben, why you record so much?" ("Why you record so much?") I got to fry up all these rappers quick, like "Order up" (Ding!)