Look, I′m a business minded nigga, nigga I can sell life and take it But I'm just a "stay up out of jail" type I′m the type to only let them see my tail lights I'm the type to do my shopping through a mailbox Poppa sent me a text and told me I'm Heaven sent I never became a doctor but made me some M and M′s They tried to keep me on the other side of the fence And now my nigga′s living on the other side of the lens
We made it, and made it possible, bitch Money long as a gospel song It's just the perfect answer when I don′t know what's right or wrong It′s either that or light a bong and write a song It's purple rain, purple rain, keep the wipers on I work the nights and days, where you think I got my stripes did from? Purple rain, purple rain, keep the wipers on When Zyne gave me a shot, I promised me to keep my snipers on (Bitch go!)
Let it go, let it go (I, I, I got it) Let it go, let it go Let it go I got it
And now it′s bull's eye bro-bro I made my people proud to be a Ngcobo You'll understand this shit when you can get to fly solo And crack your brain tryna figure out if you want the door suicide or normal That′s suicide without a pill or rope Dude I′m out here looking like I tripped and fell in gold Dude my album sounding like it tripped and fell in gold
These women going platinum, how they out here selling souls These bitches going platinum, how they out here selling pussy I was a diamond in the rough and then the right hands took me The right hands found me Success is like a song on replay everyday I like how that shit sounding (man!) Fuck it man I think that shit's a smash I jam to that shit until I pass out Mom, I′m happy that you let my daddy smash You know that's my nigga, I wouldn′t never leave him ass-out
I got 20K in my pocket That's heavy enough to keep me grounded I don′t let the money leave, no I always keep it grounded That's just music to my ears and I keep it at its loudest Look how many girls can say they had the time of their life When I turned somebody's daughter into a wife for the night It′s ironic ′cause I'm so not tryna get cuffed But I′m here committing crimes With the way I'm killing time with your life
Won′t you let the game changers do the fucking thing I'm still going, won′t you fill me up another tank? Besides my niggas, I don't know another soul to thank We do the victory dance all the way to the fucking bank Yeah, yeah, yeah that's some winning shit And you get to tell your grandchildren that you witnessed it Bad HairTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
