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
swag is but you was made in Paris
And Mama woke up the next day and shot her album package
Last time the miscarriage was so tragic
We was afraid you'd
The girls look so good
But their brains aren't ready
I don't know
I'd rather talk to a woman
And keep this money comin' heavy
So here we go
You
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
that, she don't learn to get the price tag
Walk by with a nice bag, said she try to control me
I don't care what she show me, she talking to the old me
I
shots
Don Julio got me loaded, don't think I'm not
Go mob on niggas, mob figures, mob triggers
Don't get your punk ass killed on Instagram Live, nigga
No I.D.
Make a couple platinum records in that bitch and then I dip up out it
On the 101, my wife text me
Talkin' 'bout, "You gotta get home, feed
happens, it's painfully obvious
But until that point, you'd never see it coming
Nothing you can do will prevent it
Some try, others don't
Some wear it well,
they know and shit
And on that note, I keep it G
Like track four, "Kick in the Door" by Notorious B.I.G.
Don't believe me, look that shit up, I
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
when we laid at you and Paige's crib
Was there so long I coulda paid rent
Remember when we couldn't get shit?
Best thing bout being broke is you don
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
I heard your album and I don't believe a word of it
I think you're soft like that trick, Mother Hubbard
Fillin' the cupboard with gang goods
Like
back
Because the teacher that you see is not wack
I'd like to stack up all the hits that I've made
Three albums, a triple-layer cake
on the tape, Donald-D break
Syndicate comin' through, I'm talkin' to you
Flexin' hardcore, what could you do?
When we roll up, you send your girl up
acknowledge it
Flow is crazy I'm saucing
Flying by on a rope swing
Wind blowing you talking but I don't see no walking
You crazy boy
You aint making noise
I be
(Where are you?)
Oh-oh
Oh
The Divine Feminine, an album by Mac Miller
Oh-oh (The Divine Feminine)
(The Divine Feminine) Oh
Am I supposed to?
fore wall, necklace wearin' beard
You don't want this money till it's rich
Buy my album, coded by Dirty, set you free
Go against the grain, I got
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
While they coked up and weeded
Open fire
Now them niggas bleedin'
See me in flesh
And test
And get your chest blown
Straight out the west, don't get
Trails we were blazing
Uncharted territory
Before we worked out
If I was for you if you were for me
Ready to give up
Every little part of me
But
the sexy singers that I wanna sex
I'd probably go to jail
For fuckin Patti Labelle
Ooh Regina Belle, she'd probably do me swell
Jasmine Guy was fly
fucked by Muggs
I'd like to give a shout to Cypress
This can't be real, you dissed me and I was just tryin' to
Give you a shout, now get the fuck out my
Don’t want nobody to die
Don’t want to have to ride but in this game
I guess that’s just the way
I guess that’s just the way have it your way
It’s
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