Lyrics:
Shia LaBeouf
Kid Cudi feels a way give him a call
Q Tip, I love you, bro don’t
Tell me how to be me
Though i love you the Tribe
Album is dope i love you
how I'm dealing with curses
Play my cards like Yugi Imma be a god you worship
Black Sheep Army think Maui Slim gon skim the album
I need a hundred
Y'all niggas spend too much
Time watchin' flicks
Who you wanna be? Tony Montana n shit?
Well you can start
Right before his ass get hit
But when I
back to the thing
Shia Labeouf
Kid Cudi feels a way give him a call
Q Tip, I love you, bruh don't tell
Me how to be me though, i love you the
Tribe album
Why you wanna be my Zanna? Why you wanna be my Zanna?
80k streams on an album by myself, started wvvy crew and I did that by myself
I remember 2017 all
invented this real
Been the same since my deal
If you try to say that I'm changin'
Wait for the album, see how you feel
My third album, my Graduation
the hell you think we livin?
How you think it feel to be a Simmons
Imagine Christmas and Thanksgiving
People want to know why I ain't on my brother's
said it by mistake
My t-shirts make more money than your mixtape
I tell a boy Boy Better
Know it’s money making season
I book a flight to New York for no
the family eat Three, L, C
Shawty be on it, yeah
She fuck like a pornstar
Eat up the dick she ain't going far
She ride it but imma control her, Aye
Keep it
By nature we get naughty
Want 100% of your twelve play
Confessions, you're gettin' in my way
Can you stand the rain like Bobby
Who gon' keep
notice ya friends
All pretend like its love
But tonight they've chosen revenge
My team be making moves together
50 something albums that should prove who
think it feel to be a Simmons
Imagine Christmas and Thanksgiving
People wanna know why I ain't on my brother's label
If I did this whole rap game be
Yo, tell 'em we back in this
One-of-a-kind spirit's
Be remembered with the time
The sky's the limit
Bitch I'm barely in my prime
This ain't half
Yo man, I got this def Rolex watch, man
A hundred and thousand watch, man
I sell it to you for four hundred
You got eighty?
Dig dig this, man
I got
new artist with a old school deal. (yeah!)
Taught the game by Steve Lobell (yup!)
So we always win, don't receive no L's (nah!)
New girls act like
mehn
Oh yeah
I tell you niggas that we go hard
Now am rocking on this Gold slugs
Suicide with doors up
24 With the black chromes
From 0 to 100 we go fast
outselling you
By 29 I had three albums that had blew
Now let's talk about somethin' I don't really do
Go in someone's daughter's mouth stealin' food
But
dollar portraits in my fortress
of course it's Po
bloodstainin', aeroplanin', Four-Hundred horses slow
Platinum cable, round table, so all the bosses know
that I'm about to be signed by one of the biggest pop producers at that time, my mother is sitting next to me and she couldn't be less impressed. She's
Jeezy]
Just got a hundred of that brown paper bag money
You niggas really wanna talk money?
Shit real that's all I could tell 'em
Just rap 'em up good
Me on the rise
Go again, Go again
Fuck shit up
Go again, Go again
If I take an L, fall down, get up, dust it off
Go again, Go again!
Tell'em Ray Vegas
Patrone shots
H. Lorenzo belt, buckle from Chrome Heart
A-life tag popper, it'd be sad not to walk out the store
With bags worth a 100 cash, shoppin?
a stoner, well
J'te l'avais jamais dit, but I'm on one
My new chick est Italienne so I tell a hoe « capiche? »
In my '97 Caprice
Ride around through
"Into this news. Four fugitives are on the run."
"FBI sources tell us that the four are headed"
"100 miles to their home base, Compton."
Lend me
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