Okay.
You don’t have the rent money.
Fine.
Bitch, my house should be spotless.
My dishes should be washed.
My clothes should be washed.
My clothes should be folded, ironed.
You should be cooking me dinner.
Like pay me in love, some kinda way.
Show me love that you appreciate me paying this rent.
And of course, good sex.
Like that’s love.
Fuck me for this rent.
My inspiration was thinking about my living situation at home.
Sometimes people take things for granted.
I'm the landlord.
I pay the rent.
I pay the bills.
When my back's against the wall and I've tried every avenue to kind of, you know, say
"Hey this is what it is," I just go in the studio and make music.
And I made "Rent."
With all them excuses, baby go ‘head.
Nobody wanna hear all that.
I’m not feeling that.
Baby go ‘head.
When the first of the month come, all the bills are kicking your ass.
They’re knocking at the door.
And it’s like, “What you gonna do about it?”
It’s happened too many times where it’s just like, “Okay."
"It’s time for you to go.”
And then it’s like, okay you get home.
You be lonely.
You don’t wanna be by yourself.
At some point, it’s like you gotta make a decision.
You rather be with this person and be unhappy or you’d rather be alone and be happy.
When you know a person and you’ve been with a person for so long, it’s like I see through
this shit.
Like you’re not fooling me.
Like you’ve said this a million times.
It’s time for you to switch the role and actually show me some action.
‘Cause these words that you talking is nothing but yada yada yada.
All the bullshit.
All the excuses.
They wanna talk.
Yada yada yada.
I don’t wanna hear all that.
Get out there and hustle and get some coins.
Let’s pay this rent together.
Sometimes you feel sympathy for people and you want to like say, “Okay."
"I’ma give them a little bit more time."
"I’ma give them another month."
"I’ma give them another few months.”
But that shit gotta fly out the door at some point.
Even all this time we’ve been together, you still don’t pay no rent.
You know what I’m saying?
I’ve been trying to deal with the situation for a very long time and you still ain’t
doing nothing about it.
Taking up space in your head and your heart and your mind.
“Oh baby I’ma do this.”
“Oh baby I’ma do that.”
Oh baby you ain’t gonna do bullshit.
All you doing is talking yada yada yada yada yada.
Do something.
Pack a bag, a box, a crate.
I don’t give a fuck.
I am the landlord.
Bitch I pay the bills.
So anytime I get ready to evict you honey, just know that I can sign those papers and
give you that pink slip and say, “You’re evicted.”
Motherfucker be like, “I live here too."
"I get mail here."
"You gon’ have to call the police to get me out."
Like bitch no problem.
I’m going to City Hall in the morning.
Like you ain’t saying nothing.
I mean I have a little power so when they see it’s like, “Oh, Big Freedia?"
"Oh bitch, you gotta go."
"Get your bag and go honey.”
Bam.
Out the door.
And I slam the door.
Now bitch you talked all that stuff but you thought that I wasn’t going to be able to
kick you out cause you get mail here honey.
No.
We not going to court.
The police love me ‘cause they love my music.