Lyrics:
Straight facts, nigga
Come through sippin' apple juice out ya Pyrex nigga
Fuck wrong wit' chu
I got like 20 some-odd pounds comin' from
Nevermind
Aye
Aye yea
Try to one take this shit
I'm getting over a cold so my voice a lil, na'mean
Album ain't been out twenty four hours
I'm already on this
a kid.
Therapy sessions, discipline lessons
I really saw a lot of shit,
But,
It's also foolish to think this way
Like:
"You need this and that for a grown
album out in HipHop and I'm still Heatin' up tHe crockpot
Platinum plaques tHat I ain't Hung yet
You got opinions no acHievements
Type of niggas make
enough car factories to manufacture new vehicles sedans and vans
When they do make the whip you like ya chips ain't right,
By the time you could afford
is
That's what happens when you make shit that's timeless
That's what happens these rappers is the pioneers
What do it take to be a legend like Nas
nigga?
By the end of the record I will have ended you niggas
These niggas hate to see him playing off the script that he wrote
They be like "Why he call
You give me hope it makes me stupid feels like I was shot by cupid
Gettin lonely by myself, you swooped on in and gave me help
My heart was in
It been a long time but your boy back at it
The streets waiting for it when they see me they be askin
"What's UP with the album" Promise you it's
find him
20 shots to hit his head, we let off from behind him
They hear me spazzin' on my album, got me feelin' like what's next
Supercharged in V8 mode
But first, I'd like you to meet my friend Bob (huh?)
Say hi, Bob (hi, Bob) Bob's thirty and still lives with his mom
And he don't got a job, 'cause
But first, I'd like you to meet my friend Bob (huh?)
Say hi, Bob (hi, Bob) Bob's thirty and still lives with his mom
And he don't got a job, 'cause
can't knock the hustle (alright)
But I- it's like a game of twenty-one and I got nineteen
And my Jake but I put more D on me
Lil' Weezy Wee gon' eat
a number
Add it on up to twenty-five
The joke is on you, I'm still fucking alive
Had to drive by with the beat tape up in my mind
And combined with
prefer Papeye's
I go down to the record label
And met with the Rabbi, and he's like
I can't sell this fucking record
You know why Eminem's album sold so
next up
I'm the type
To push ya fuckin buttons
Jus to test ya
See you in person
You make no noise
Like a Tesla
Bars will leave their faces
All disfigured
for that)
Brown paper bag (we the best)
Just pulled over in my 7-5
Big bottle on the dash, hope he let me slide
Got 20 in the trunk you can bet me
'll be home at prolly by nine
I met some people that got
Some issues just like mine
Singular punchlines for the Sinai
Think you can step to me? I
Don't
the new album, I'm missing my only friend
You have everyone around you, with thirty names a day?
I don't see what it is? I mean, you
Not like you don't
Yeah we back
You already who it is
I thought you've been though
Respect me
Throw your tites up
I swear you'd be like you'd be like yeah
Use your ears
watched me watch the front door all night willing you to come
And he said, "It's supposed to be fun turnin' twenty-one"
Time won't fly, it's like I'm
Many songs 'fore this one I wanted to put more n' more in 'em
Standin' up for what I believe in, 20 today, seems like yesterday I was 19
Was thinkin'
even trying
You don't scare me at all
If you did a drive-by, I'd wave!
It's so cute when you rap
It's like I'm watching my dad
Tryna use an iPad
mills
My boy kitchen's done, lookin' like a flour mill
You niggas' faces lookin' like you drink sour milk
And your albums like some mothafuckin' fire
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