State Fair Lyrics – Jack Harlow

[Verse 1]
My pet peeve is a camera in my face
Have you ever heard of personal space?
I walk around town in a hoodie and some shades
But now they startin’ to recognize the shades
Even if you hate me, you would trade
You would live this life too ’cause I got it made
I like my bed made, soon enough, I’ll have a maid
When I buy a house, every surface gon’ be suede
But for now, I got a concierge downstairs
All my neighbors arе gray-haired
They don’t recognizе me and I don’t think they care
But my Postmates can’t believe that I stay here (fu©k)
I wanna go back to Kentucky and shut down the state fair
Visit my old teachers and tell ’em to take care
I might take a whip instead of payin’ the plane fare
I still remember the way there
Ain’t a girl in my hometown I can’t have now
Buy a building in cash, ain’t puttin’ half down
The hate used to get to me, I just laugh now
Yeah, they fu©kin’ with Jack now
Look how they act now
Look how they act now
Look how they act now
Look how they act now
They fu©kin’ with Jack now, they fu©kin’ with—
[Interlude]
Mmm, pshh

[Verse 2]
Baby, I’m comin’ home, I know the kids miss me
I need some time with my friends to sip whiskey
I spent the last twelve months locked in
But tonight, I’m content with existing
2015, we was on that Pen Griffey
I wanted what he had, but the shoes didn’t fit me
Now the city with me and I got the kids listening
And I’m a smooth operator by instinct
Word to Sade, walkin’ ’round broad day
Like hey, with the windows down, I’m on Broadway
And it was just a day ago, I was in Daygo like the damn Padres
Now I’m at my grandparents’ lettin’ my grandpa say
What he wants to say
‘Cause nowadays, I’m in the paper once a day
And it ain’t always positive, it’s a bunch of things
But fu©k it, man, I done graduated from younger days
And if I ain’t runnin’ things, soon, I’ll be runnin’ things
I’m an artist, man, you just make fun of things
I’m the hardest, man, y’all don’t know what to say
This album’s a museum, so please don’t touch a thing
It’s okay to give me props, don’t make it such a pain
It’s okay to give me top, don’t make it such a thing
Don’t get offended if we met and I say, “What’s your name?”
I been flyin’ ’round the country for three hundred days
But I ain’t ’bout to justify how I adjust to fame
fu©k the fame, from the jump, we ain’t been cut the same
I got so much, but I still think about what’s unobtained
Never been the type for wantin’ things
I want power (I want power)
I want my life to speed up a couple miles per hour
I want my dogs to know that this $hit is ours
I want respect, I don’t want flowers
I know they gon’ quote this
The flow don’t make no sense, the pocket is potent
It used to be potential, but now it’s some grown $hit
Damn, that boy floatin’, he treat them beats like they oceans
All these people wanna greet like we old friends
I ain’t holdin’ back, tell the media, “Hold this”
I know I said I miss you, but I secretly don’t miss
I got stories and I’m bringin’ ’em home with me
[Outro]
(Gangsta)