Lyrics:
Aye, Lil Rock Ouuuu
Nephop ko God jstai lagcha ni haina?
Aye bau sunn!
U got some bars, Like J. Cole & NAS
Big that u wana be, FUCK u cannot
You
Everybody gotta cry once in a while
But how long will it take 'fore you smile?
This is that come back to life shit
My niggas pick me up and we gon' light
a lot of vibes and shit like that for the ladies once again, you know
And some more grimy stuff and rap
But nonetheless, this sums up everything, homie
And the label come off fam with the ram
Like Martin, Gina, Cole, Tommy, and Pam
Start scheming boy, you die where you stand
Ok
This the type of shit that
they own that shit
So if I had a million dollars, I would go and buy some real estate
Go and visit all the hoods and help the ones on section 8
Go
of the Wu-Tang manual
Handles to keep this hip-hop shit tangible
Illegible, every egg ain't edible
My tracks remain Unforgettable
Like Ol' Nat Cole
Got to catch
your phone never lag
She told me that a few a week is not that fucking bad
Multiply by three like J. Cole said that shit get fat
I got thirty people who
And that's stuck in my head 'til this day G
So I apply pimp game to life you see
But I ain't beatin on my sister in the streets
I'ma focus on my real enemy,
a dog, call me a blood hound
Throwin' blood in the air, leave blood on the ground
Niggas'll trade they soul to be Drake or J. Cole
Live and die for this
the basement
But I bounced back now how amazing is that
Counting up a quarter million in cash
There aint no ceiling thats a fact
I know they can feel it in my
shit like I'm Drake
And I can't be fazed by you lame hoes
I go hard for my ville like I'm J. Cole
I do this often on the weekend like I'm Abel
I be
talking off
And getting egged on by A&Rs who, soon as your shit fallin' off, they walkin' off
And if you rappers diss us and ours just know that you dead
the message, yeah I need some credit
I'm coming for the Cole's and the Kendrick's
If you ain't down wit it, better get lost
I ain't down wit a nigga sayin I'm
make a milli shit
That's how I creep around, on my Chilli shit
With no TLC
I'm the MVP
I'm so so sick, call the CDC
I'm on T O P
You ain't seeing me
And I dont get why these people lie but dont confess
That shit so dead that's why some men hit and dip by the sunlight damn
The facts are bright, cant
and bring up J. Cole
I have some locks when I'm 50 but I'm not Hov
I'm getting better as I age word to J Lo
Got a chip up on my shoulder from the queso
Yeah
them nuggets
They gone lose it if they
See us out in public like it or love it
True a girl that's badder than Latoya Luckett
And I told her we ain't
Ain't no Homies n da trenches
Shit ain't what it seem
Dirty money flip da hustle now we Rich n clean
Motivated by da Swipers n Go Gettas
Get on ya hustle
sell my soul, ho, who the hell is you?
They say my kind ain't welcome everywhere, well I can deal with that
But those who pop they shit get the shit
at rock bottom
Lot of problem and no solvers
Been through this shit by myself
And I really need help
So tell me what's up with you
Tell me what up with you
flow is better than jeezy, and i know i make this shit look easy
But che cole, hes better than me, but he made 11 tracks
Yeah thats more than 3 times 3
Homies be the haters imma hit em with it later
Hated by my neighbors cause we cooking with the flavor
Got some homies in the city they ain't got no
don't shock me
I'm supposed to have it. You never been close to karats
That's why you poppin' that shit jealous bastarts
I ain't impressed by you playa
how to act in a drought
See baby girl I realized, my definition of a real nigga was skewed
My views misshaped by new mixtapes
That confirmed the shit
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