Lyrics:
Now they wanna hear a country nigga rap
Five albums in, I swear a country nigga snap
Thought they wanted trap, thought they wanted bass
Thought
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
today's doe money
No time for your freestyles so roll money
No more whack albums with two joints
No more ballplayin' rappers who shoot ya two points
(No
And hey Son, life is more than having fun
So run and get some help with the problems that you face
Take a taste of the bass put your perspective in place
a timeshare somewhere
Rock bum wear, beach chair, write a book each year
You can write yourself out of your blessings
Wreck your Lambo the first day just by
outselling you
By 29 I had three albums that had blew
Now let's talk about somethin' I don't really do
Go in someone's daughter's mouth stealin' food
But
And how awesome you are
And how I am so, so honored to have a son as yourself
I could never have ask for more, you're just amazing
And I am just so
God's son, and I've come from the God under pure peace
To represent the streets, you'll see that my plan
Is not to destroy your man
But to bring more
You gotta have the link before you order these
Dockin' jet skis in the Florida Keys
We all grateful for Weezy, but no one more than me
You just found
down the microphone, son, surrender, forfeit
Did I hear something 'bout a crew? What they wanna do?
You better call Mr. Babyface so he can bring out
to stop by and check us out sometime
He looked at me like I'm out my mind
Shook his head like, "White boys don't know how to rhyme"
I spit out a line
education
And I’m sure this will end up online
So I don’t want to diss anyone at
The American Academy, I’m sure it’s equal to
The Art Institute of Chicago by
{Aight, what's goin on, what's goin on
What's the deal pa, where you headed son?}
(Yo I'm bout to go to the studio and lay smash hit
Wit my Uncle Run,
joint
Every album since then always been on point
(Thank you) videos and big shows is hardcore
So why you think your albums haven't sold more?
Well
of Dolly
Dolly and Charlie got a son named Wally
And Wally got a girl by the name of Polly
Polly got a sister by the name of Molly
Molly and Polly got
that they need more
The difference between the pretenders and the Kendrick Lamars
And so, I took the fall like the son of the Lord
On the cross, dyin'
dollars")
Niggas will sell their soul to
Go platinum and gold
I'm cold 'cause I got the
Gold and kept my soul
Drop an album full of soul
Sold twelve times
the heat from your breath,
Rap niggas beef in they album probably needed the press
And as a man I never found the slightest need to impress
Another man
it's funny how things change, funny how time fly
More than my feet travel, the more that I feel fly
More that I make now, the more that the chicks smile
yo album done came and gone and you stupid ass still waitin
stackin paper off my work
Them no good son of a bitches got me livin for concerts
I
sprinkling
The album width to keep the registers ringing
In real life, I'm much more distinguished
I'm like a bloke from London, England
Yeah, you jingling
passion, anything that could equal some satisfaction
Looking for love at the end of this Hen bottle
Looking for pub', let me pen your next album
Call from
recorded was me and 50
"Hate It or Love It", I had more Cincinnati hats than Ken Griffey
Whole hood had them Black Wall tats
Me, Fase, G-Rod, where Buddha
get out of it
Any and all should fall, many are small should call
Naughty By Nature the creator of all y'all
Show hope, show no hope and can't cope,
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