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Yeah, this album is dedicated To all the teachers that told me I'd never amount to nothin' To all the people that lived above the buildings that I
own record label and put myself on blast The album was independent, it was just for the streets I sold a one thousand copies in my first fuckin' week
to Queens, let's get it Uh-huh I always got a trick up my sleeve I might give you a new trick every week 'Til this album drop, I don't know I figured
Wind in my hair, I was there I remember it all too well Photo album on the counter, your cheeks were turnin' red You used to be a little kid with
tryna visit Tired of people acting like I won a lotto ticket I'm still gon' get it by any means I'm still gon' get it by any means I'ma go get it by any
just keep avoiding the obstacles Aye Aye Said momma I made Momma I made it, your son gon famous No lie, loyalty's what I go by Stack and flipping it
they won't stop it Though it's just my dad's mum and la mama de la mama' Played your mum my album and she's like "T come on by!" And I'll come
On the real I keep it real under the moon and the sun It's in my DNA and blood live by the money and gun Study Art Of War so every single battle is
And I began writing probably the most joy filled song on this album Which was sunset by the beach And I just started feeling so good I was radiating
and four chords repeated Completed by a relatable lyrical concept about an ex or something This isn't for the masses It's for the musically analytical So
So let me mention and begin With what a blessing you have been 7 weeks after I had come to the King What a wonderful thing, you lovingly took me under
I just bagged a half a brick by eye Now I'm just twiddling my thumbs Jakes try question me about a headshot bro I was sitting in the sun I was
(c'mon, see'mon) plat' Yo Na Na so ill, first week out Shipped a half a mil, niggas freaked out She's all about sex, pard-on, check your facts
off How, nigga? My last album was The Chronic (nigga) They wanna know if he still got it They say rap's changed, they wanna know how I feel about it
The doctor said I need about three weeks of recovery But the nurses is loving me Saying the best part of the day is my half Feeding me breakfast, and giving
This album was written over the course of one week And mainly created in just four studio sessions between Logic and No. I.D But perfected over
Hey guys Let me start by apologizing to you For the way everything went down On Saturday i had a statement typed Ready to post to you Guys but
ain't got to get all extremely too personal on your albums When you not surrounded by bigger artists to fucking boost you Nigga you called me, I didn't
think If I keep goin' at this rate I'll be a great next week Album done in my sleep I got it done in a week Been possessed by my old self Fuckin' with
lookin' over at me Wind in my hair, I was there I remember it all too well Photo album on the counter, your cheeks were turnin' red You used to be
Say my niggas don't dance we just pull up our pants and Do the Rockaway I was raised by Hip-Hop Tupac Mac Dre West side, I ain't a crip or a blood
sleeping in, uh, his basement on the couch Which is the cover to my first album, Under Pressure, shout out Cathy, shout out the Rosado family All my
wasted Niggas love tryna put my back where the walls facin' Big body frames, wasn't into car racin' Me and Chubbs drive by, shorty heart racin' I
she mop it (mop it) She lick it, she top it The bitches, they swappin' (swappin') Don't try me, it's by me (by me) Feel me, it's on me (on me,
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