Lyrics:
of a magazine ain't even got a album out
Hop at da streets my delete cuh my hits out
Now I'm da one everybody wanna talk about
Hustle hard ball harder dats wat I
when the albums flat
Remember that yeah but now it's flarin'
Got me starin' baby got that Victor Baron
I ain't carin' if ya boyfriend live with ya
Five wits, my mind's rich
I won't remind 'em the cost
I'm supreme with God's gift
I'm on my Diana Ross
I'm poppin' vows, coin flips
And send a portal,
soldier shit
Keep on servin' 'em, 'cause you know we do work
Mashin'' in my Chevy down the streets of New York, they feel me
I smooth grip, and hit up
(Maybe in this song, you shouldn't start by saying)
Nigga, I said it, I know that you mad
I've emptied the clip over friendlier jabs
You mentioned
They living a lie
Trying to provide
We living to die
Smoking dubai
Try to get by
Live by the eye
This life makes no fucking sense bitch
Paradox for
from my sig
Leave a hole in you bigger than BIG
Nigga you dead, I know where Nori live
You live by Nori crib
You talkin' all that shit
Nigga you
[Swizz beatz]
Let's get it started, get it started
Let's keep it started, keep it started
Yeah, yeah, violator the album
Go, go, go!!
[l
tossed like a Heracross
Got turned upside down like Diana Ross
And fell victim to centrifugal force
By the time I was through, you was stiff as a corpse
listed by others
This that summertime, Kool & The Gang, me and my brothers
Taking it back like primitive, tell me now who gon' let 'em live?
Shit, like
getting high with my guys, didn't care 'bout nothing
Ever since they first hit me up, wasn't supposed to live
Still on the block getting money where I'm
live my life without you
All you ever seem to do is scream and make it all about you
And so I doubt you
I doubt you even know what's on my mind
I
career's a prophecy now
Better grab your jacket, 'cause in this world we live in it's cold out
And when my album hit the stores it's sold out
Like these
"Where's the hits?" You ain't got none
You know Jay'll never put your album out without none
And, dog, you know how come
Labels are archaic, formulaic
"Where's the hits?" You ain't got none
You know Jay'll never put your album out without none
And, dog, you know how come
Labels are archaic, formulaic
clothes so take those off
Look at what I ran across
Reach out and touch Diana Ross
Turn into an animal feeling like I'm at the zoo
Said you got an Onlyfans
'em grown and then watch 'em lead
Let me proceed, bumpin' that that Californication, by the Red Hot
Fuck around and then hit 'em with a red dot
Y'all
cause I'm the boss
So mother[edited] Bruce Springsteen and Diana Ross
Because they know what the time is
I rock [edited] for the fly kids, be -men,
album sounding like a clutter
If you try and clap back I'll make a movie with your mother
If we're talking dignity you're living in a drought
I see you
Bitch I'm tryna get it like I'm Young Jeezy
Trinidad James if you don't believe me
Bet my album sell still ain't on ya Tv
Momma say she love me hoes
shit, bet I live for it
For this moment
Had to vent so I hit up the big homie
Niggas don't even buy albums
But niggas still do anything for a deal,
the window I fling
Like I'm watched by the pit boss
A feeling in my gut like Rick Ross
Chips in the air chuck a deuce and get lost
I don't give a fuck
I was
nicknamed her Missy
She lives alone out in New Orleans, she always tells me she miss me
But such as life, this story's real, it's not a movie by Disney
Satisfied with the Losses
Lines don't dare cross it
On a break I Ross it
Music heat and fit cold temperature had to go and drop it
Pokémon catch 'em
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