[Verse 1] I used to rap with the door closed Used to work at Party City, now I tour those The flow sick like a sore throat And we mean business every time, yeah, sport coat It's getting harder to reach me, everything peachy Yeah I braid my hair like Khaleesi I done did it by myself, ain't nobody to teach me Who you know that make it look this easy? (Huh?) Man it's the music from the soul, type to never grow old Yeah the smile went platinum and the wrist went gold Got a couple good stories that'll never get told I don't want to die young but I ain't tryna get old Man, fuck it, I'm bout to run up the budget I love the game like I'm kissing and hugging, but not in public Homie, this the one they been waiting on, damn I ain't met a rapper yet that doesn't fuck fans Yeah this the one that'll make you real good I mean real good Still friends with the kids in my yearbook I ain't shaking hands wit' you ‘less the deals good This time it's personal, it's so personal If I don't fuck with you, you gone be the first to know And they mad cause they don't rock the city like I do Every time I step out it's “Hi, how are you?”
[Verse 2] Well I'm good, thanks for asking I got fans, that's fantastic These internet rappers so fake, they plastic I just took the cards, I was down to learn magic And if I do a deal with the Devil, I'll come back with his head They been waiting on my drop, dog, I feel like Zed The old school with the new, I could sell a cassette And we just tryna make music they won't forget (Hold up) Yeah, I used this the most Y'all already know how this thing goes Don't make me clear my throat If you're drunk in Paris, just make sure they don't I got the same number since flip phones Same friends since the Flintstones And they like, the higher the fall, the higher the climb I just came to give them Goosebumps, like R.L. Stine I'm gone
[Verse 3] Real one from my neck to my feet I get played the way I'm blessing the beat I'ma be around forever, the flows antique And the album so fire, I don't care if it leaks I keep my real friends with me, seven days of the week I wake up, write a song, eat dinner, repeat I ain't giving out my number, you can DM or tweet You can hit me on the snaps, I don't really do streaks I heard these rappers getting signed, hope they keeping the receipt Cause the label bout to drop them when they hear about me I'm a little hot-headed, I ain't got two cold feet Oh-ee, who he, I ain't never bought a beat And all these other acts sounding fishy like tofu Yeah, I like soul food, little bit of whole food My favorite mix drink is tequila and pro tools And God might forgive you dog, but I don't do redos It's showtimeTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
