Lyrics:
Y'all know me, still the same O.G.
But I been low-key
Hated on by most these niggas with no cheese
No deals and no G's
No wheels and no keys
No
I got by
Creflo pray Mike Vick payed bobby brown stray Whitney lost weight
Kimbo Slice on the pad when I write
That Mayweather money looking funny in
die, genocide the cause
Expect a blood bath, the aftermath is y'alls
I told you, last album, we need help 'cause we dyin'
Give us a chance, help us
Y'all know me, still the same O.G.
But I been low-key
Hated on by most these niggas with no cheese
No deals and no G's
No wheels and no keys
No
when the rents due
Yet thankless if things do improve
And nobodies moved by what you’ve been through
It's all about the groove the publics into
We was
dance like if I was Albert Alien
People just love it when the Biz starts to play
With my (beatboxing), and by the way
Skeezing with a girl is
the dominant
Your honor this, cut your mic, I'm in control of all of this
Welcome to the 2nd album where we find ourselves surrounded
By some people venomous
done by the 9th of may
Gotta write the song by the end of the day
Convinced if I’m late, it’ll will mean my dismay
Album released the 5th day of June
tell?
Whole team turning 30 like that album by Adele
Its 90Sitcom like fresh prince or saved by the bell
Them streams don't count if you just playing em
to the Graduation albums Kanye made by himself
Man I'm the next one
Ain't no competition with me I'm the best son
You could think that you're superior that's your
handicapped, and still we're told there are some bonds that can't be broke
Fraud, lies by terrified escapists
Glass can shield the rain
With my head
and rearranged
No matter what happens, nothing can ever be the same
Logan V, treating this like it's my final one
By album five, thought I'd run it like where
I'm just different, it's scary
Wanna make a billion, by 30
Think it's realistic? You tell me
I just don't know how to not do me
I just don't know how
don't touch the crown
By the way, that's Uncle Brown
A gyal dem a run me down, cuh
(I got it, yeah) this is soul baby
The kind of soul that gave
Stella
his murder case
I used to jam Run D.M.C
Monie Love, MC Lyte, and Biz Markie
When LL was bad with that gold rope phone
Back when niggas used beepers,
pumpin' 93 say, "What's up
Church?" when I ride by in
That blacked out Ford GT
They write me stuff in my PO
Tell me 'bout their broken homes
Tell me 'bout
decay
But I still hope that my album will get a few plays
I'll get by, taking this day by day
But if I die, just know you'll be okay
All I've ever done
offended by this, but that's the market y'all missed
That's the target I'll hit
And that's the heart of my pitch
I wanna do this whole thing different
What
And along those lines run life and death
You know, so a few years went by, a couple
Albums, success, out of the
Blue sky Dre departs, he leaves us
Death
hit me
Just to pick up the closest thing and knock the living shit out of he
So if you run up, you get done up, I'ma end it
Throw the gun up out
fuck it I love it here I call it my birthplace
Whenever I walk in they makin' the worst face
Surrounded by Fillipinos I think of the worst case
Watch
of state niggas get
Mad 'cause we rich (Hahaha, richhh)
Pick up a super chicken bac-ca
(Bac-ca, bac-ca)
He said selling 28 and a hundred by mail
For
crazy, baby
Don't forget that boy told you
Get that dirt off your shoulder
I probably owe it to y'all
Probably be locked by the force
Tryin' to hustle
forget
That boy told you
Get, that, dirt off your shoulder
I probably owe it to y'all
Proud to be locked by the force
Tryin’ to hustle some things that
Go
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