Out The Mud (feat. Ju$$-B & E-Class)

Lashawn Freeman

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Lashawn Freeman


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You never can break me, I make the rules
I came in this game winning, don't play to lose
I'm calling my shots, swish, I'm in the mood
I'm keeping my hopes up, this game a choose
So what would you do
Look, I'ma get it out the mud, I'ma get it out the mud, you know
Making my shots swish I'm in the mood
In the mirror preparing all my winner interviews
Bob Proctor quotes my mental interludes
As far as having Rap credit nigga I been approved
Pushing my drive like 10 - 2, yet I'm steering the wheel at 12
Need my weight to tip the scales, if rap failed
Ill accelerate my passion in a different coop
No U-Turning to 9-5 cuz I got shit ta do
I need this shit ta move
Grinding so hard, I live wit Scarred knuckles
They say that things comes to those who wait
But only left over scraps, by hungry niggas wit large hustle
So many reps with the bars I call my American car, muscle
I still get thru it when the road is rough
When u been knocked to the bottom the only other way to go is up
I coulda knot the strings on one of my ThreadBeast hoodies, but y'all ain't cold enough
Yeah that's right, I quoted Lux
Still y'all niggas know wassup
The style tighter than a finger four leg lock and Big Melvin throater clutch
No holding up
I'm energized enough to make a ton of Lamborghini moves without a Fogers cup
Nose candy off the blade passing with these shoulder bumps
Tell 'em make way, and get familiar like where I know him from
This ain't a phase, I been this way since I been growing up
Spending my days making new goals and checking old ones, focus up
You never can break me, I make the rules
I came in this game winning, don't play to lose
I'm calling my shots, switch, I'm in the mood
I'm keeping my hopes up, this game a choose
So what would you do
Look, I'ma get it out the mud, I'ma get it out the mud, you know
Look, I'ma get it out the mud, I'ma get it in the mud, you know
Came in this game to win, don't play to lose
Over my competition, dunking like Penderhughes
Black mamba quotes my mental interludes
That might explain all them awards in my living room
Force of my will, til I up and pop the inner tubes
Keep on hooky for grinding purposes, I don't care if it's looking cute
Pray you receive this track as motivation
It's for that third string guard, while in the practice, the frequent and coaches rotation
Control your greatness
I can't relate to lazy niggas, we don't speak the same language
Keep a surveillance on who you hang with
Keep it a stack, most niggas with me now, ain't all of the niggas that I came with
I really had to change shit
Like what's LeShawn, why the name switch
Cause I'm not from Cali and I don't f*ck with all that fame shit
Rather build my wealth and maintain, I got my middle name
Freeman, to let you know you can't imprison me with your chains, you heard
Back to the hustle man, Tracy Morgan, wedding planning
Ducking the scams and niggas mentally under managed
Pray and envision how to up my standards
Then went and got it, y'all niggas dream about it
And then go make a sandwich, that's lackluster bro, we ain't the same
I'm in this bitch to change the game, you a bench woman, stat stuff up
Relax brother, occupy your lane
Apply my efforts with confidence of a lot to gain, LaShawn
We got it out the mud like we gardening
Harvesting, blossom, awesome
Now I get all of my flowers from the audience
Ran so many laps around these rappers that my job is written
Never shaky when we ride, we can park and shit
Then I peel like a pharmacist
We bust moves, our afterthought is the consequence
Funny how the struggle built my confidence
Ain't have a dollar and felt marvelous
So when I got it, I stay modest
Bought the forward to the projects, most my bros don't got a check
That's the closest they gon' get to a broader shit
Parole got him in the chokehold
Been trying to be a stunner but I swear that life's stone cold
Stacked down the white tee on, with the phone pro
Been on the road for weeks, bag chasing, I should phone home
Dreaming of my future, hope my goals gold
Never thought I'd make it, I just had Mike Visions like my bro Jones
Grew around product pushes, packaging cocoa
Hillary Banks, I'm talking white girl, that Hillary Swank
I promise Boog, I'm a rapper till a mill in the bank
It's on E, I'ma fill up the tank
It's on me, I'ma pick up the big
I'm Wayne Perry going in for the kill
This that feeling for real
The feeling of a lyricist spilling deliverance skill
Like a whisper from Jack Frost, nigga I be giving him chill
Its class

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Written by: Beau Draper, Eben Nettles, Jonathan Seward

Lyrics © DistroKid

Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

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