Lyrics:
Right now round the earth
We're in place and ready
To turn cities to dirt
More enemies than friends
Peep the track record
You can check the facts
We are
all good
All day is how we play in the neighborhood
Well, how you feeling, MCA?
Well, I feel right
I speak my words on the track 'cause the track
turned away from making you a profit
Thirty thousand hours of my life, I think I've lost it
I'm the sunk cost fallacy in the flesh
if I put another track
boo
I get them blue hundreds, spread them out like a wound
Can't get you off my mind, I might die about you
My outfit cost a dime, can't control how
Chorus:
Yeah they ask me, how much my wrist cost
I said 4K
Woke up feeling wavy on a Sunday
School bag, go to school on a Monday
Go to school
of the Lord!
KWIRK
(the effects slow down like a record)
Yeow! That baked him good!
HUNKIE
Oh wow, it looks just like Thanksgiving out there!
KWIRK
Tied to the tracks come set me free
Clichés say I'm my own enemy
Cause I can't control my own tendencies
Flipping records for a second I can't balance
of the Lord!
KWIRK
(the effects slow down like a record)
Yeow! That baked him good!
HUNKIE
Oh wow, it looks just like Thanksgiving out there!
KWIRK
pay the cost
Yeah
Mic check check check someone tell me if the mic is on
I rap from feeling so you best record it before it's gone
Or I grip a pen
we know what's goin happen
Put you on spread
And give you some action
Your hand on my head
I control your reaction
How many climaxes, Lose track by
Captain of the Millenium Falcon
Galactically unmatched with talent
My track records have been gettin' around
I even, had a plaque up at Jabba's
running out cold
And running records old, not a single sold
And let me change it back
I’m running the track
I’m off the mack, you know that
I can’t react, I
put tray on it
I've got fats on, it cost a million more
I've got black on and I can rap on
Whatever track dog, I'm like a young black
Quarterback,
really clear they abroad
They sound like they boxed in
It's not just where they record
There's a cost to be the boss they can't clearly afford
Swear
really clear they abroad
They sound like they boxed in
It's not just where they record
There's a cost to be the boss they can't clearly afford
Swear
level All-Madden
Hi five, cloud nine, private jet lackin'
Treat the seal like a vinyl record, gotta keep it crackin'
Shall I pour up, blow some smoke
Signed the dotted line but didn't read through the costs
(When your album sits on the desk) "That's when ya lost!"
Followed your label's notion no
foil
We ain't the same team don't you mention my niggas man
Owning property to pass to the babies the mission man
I burn these tracks like my SL be
of alcohol, making tracks that be sounding raw
Bitch in my DM's looking fine as fuck with her Calvin's on
Telling me that I can smash without a cost
That
promise ain't no scarin' us
I don't know why you mad at me, because yo bitch was sharin' us
Control the laws, I control my own universe
Killin' rappers,
a permission to dig up a grave?)
Yo, I'm comin' in black and runnin' the track, I dare you to overreact
I'm placin' the mic stand into my right hand diggin'
And make enough to pay that piper and what it costs to be the boss
Cause I know
They don't respect your skills when you don't got a record deal
And them
the hunger so I’m on to the next kill
Been grinding every summer, in the winter don’t rest still
It cost to be the boss, I’ll double up on the next bill
Heard a couple niggas said freak can't rap
Nigga must tired of hearing his bitch sing my tracks
Cause that shit cap
Talking out his neck I got niggas
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