[Verse 1: Machine Gun Kelly] Cleveland on my back L's up when you see me Came from the underground now they on tv swear to God haaan Ain't shit changed Fool, you can miss me with that rap shit You can miss me with that stereotypical "he isn't lyrical" barbershop chat shit Miss me with that frat shit Only university I graduated was Hard Knocks I'm from Cleveland where they trap shit Five bucks for the catfish, five bucks for the bad bitch Five bucks in a drought in this city could get you a piece of that cactus With saran wrap for the wrapping What u mean? Meaning we bundling all of this loud into Garcia Vegas I swear it's contagious the way that we passed it Patches on my denim vest about as old as my dad is Blood stains on my chucks cus well we know what that is Jet lag from these long flights still sitting coach like it's practice Feeling like students when the schools back I'm trying to see what first class is Cash is the root of all evil But maybe that's why I do bad shit Fact is, I do what I need Cause the country we live in is fascist, And no Catholic or Baptist, warlord or pacifist, Could've seen what I seen without IMAX's and 3D glasses Ya'll in family houses like Bob Saget Both parents I was on family couches like "you don't want it?" ill wear it Inheriting hand me downs as a grown man, embarrassed And these dreams seem far-fetched When reality is you're sharing a shirt, shower, and shitter while your newborns in the carriage Packaging groceries in bags for an hourly seven dollar average This ain't living this is strife, mixed with Hennessey and some sprite But maybe one day they'll remember me like they remember Mike When I'm gone Uh, Kells Maybe they'll remember me when I'm gone
[Hook 1: Machine Gun Kelly] When my times up on this earth And they bury me in the dirt Don't say that I ain't milk this life for everything that it's worth (everything that it's worth) And when I die remember me like Kurt, BANG!
[Verse 2: Dub-O] And they say Dub quit with that humble shit You can only be cool for so long Don't misjudge I'm not the one you wanna rumble with Write it down, take a pic Do whatever you gotta do to remember me I'm in your memory for infinity And the same goes for your bitch Remember me from Kennedy Or East High on the east side where niggas die over anything Yeah, Dub-O, Oh, you ain't know? I got go, I rock shows, I be calling plays like Flaco, But I'm so Cleveland it's a damn shame And EST is my damn gang been reppin that since way back and that double X is my campaign Pop bottles that champagne it's Cliquot for the champions now where the hell is my damn ring? Biatch, celebration for nothing let you believe what you see I'm in the back but no frontin 7 days out the week I be working I'm full of hunger That jealousy is the smell of defeat Remember who told you I'm gone Remember me when I'm gone
[Hook 2: Dub-O] When the time is up on my watch And they bury me in that box Don't say I ain't give this game everything that I got (everything that I got) And when I die remember me like Pac, BANG!Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
