Lyrics:
I met you in a club in Atlanta, Georgia
Said me and my homeboy were coming out with an album
You looked at me like, "Yeah, nigga right"
But you
Sci-fi
I'm about to murder this beat like a drive-by
10-minute rap, leave nothing in the archive
You niggas rap but really only part-time
I'm about
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
učinili v minulosti a ten kto sa sťažuje že lopta skáče je pravdepodobne ten kto ju pustil
Pochádzam z pomerov kde počíta sa každé euro
Zrodený z rasy
Freeze my heart locked in a ice box minus 30 degrees
I'm on my sub zero shit I be letting it breeze
Just made my album in a week I did that shit with
You're So Beautiful
This song appears on three albums, and was first released on the John Denver
Album, and has also been released
, ten, twenties and them fifties
Bitch i'm a ma'fuckin' star (Star)
Look at the paint on the car (Car)
like Juvenile
Do time in Juvenile
No I'm not no child
I'm the child turned the man
My album drops jaws makin the hater turn to fan
It's straight off
des vieux
Certains pensent que j'suis prétentieux
J'vend un million d'albums
Tu crois que j'vais pas enculer des vieux
Et puis je m' élance dans les
blunts cigar scent
I'm by myself and niggas run they mouths like auctions
To streets my brother
Fefe's my brother
And we stay on point like a fucking
vor Primark entführt
Drive-By, Schüsse aus der Beifahrertür
Meine T-Shirt-Größe kann nicht jeder Mensch anziehen
Denn sie hat mehr ,X‘e als ein
at the 'Kiss
'Cause I walk around with your whole advance on my wrist
Boning your women, drunk off Coronas and lemon
And you know I'm still writin' the mean,
clear yeah yeah
I ain't worried bout the time won't let it pass me by
No fear yeah ten years yeah bring on ten years
Me and wifey finally working all
another album, it was crack
(you won't)
I can't stop, I won't stop (you won't)
I'm in the studio the day my album drop
Cause I'm tryna get the trophy, homie
still starving and looking for meals
And heads up! Ludacris is almost out of his deal
I'm over ten million sold, every album is crack
And for now I'm
you none
When it reach out and teach someone, blaze they buns
Now I'm guilty by association
Times of blackness eclipsin the sun, target practice
[Chorus: x8]
This a trap
This ain't no album
This ain't no game
This a trap (trap muzik)
Welcome back to the trap
Niggas back in the trap
get to the streets
11, that's one over 10 and one under 12
And I'm still in the hood, [?] and runnin' from 12s
11, 11, I'm droppin' the album
This
to say
Like both times by literally plucking it out of the sky
Because I do not know what words I'm going to say
In time missed up partly
Messed up, rargh
God
Oh shit, this project means the fuckin' world to me
I'm so, I'm so
Fuck it, Dan, go again
I'm so thankful that everybody listens to the album
If
Look how they did X, 3 albums, six movies and got him looking stress
Where's his money at?
Or my homey Def, what up Mos? Did 16 blocks and look like
diss me in my zone
See i'm way farther then fed up cuz i've been prone
To getting attacked by dumb bitches that
Cannot own
Their own shit
So they gotta
at me and see I'm cute that's why you won't see the slash
Coming from the back of my bag keep a knife by my calf
start it but you'll finish last
prepared
start him?
Now they can't park him
I go into the booth and just change like Clark Kent
Lamborghini dark tint
Philly blunts cigar scent
I'm by myself
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