Lyrics
Niggas want dope, so I guess I’m the smuggler
Blue cheese on me now I’m feeling like a burger
But I ain’t Change-Up, I ain’t Jason Bateman
Been going this hard, you niggas is just late-man
The runt of the litter, they ain’t think I’d survive
Getting to the top, when I’m up there I won’t dive
Rappers speak silence, swear Facemob is back
I need that Apple money, you’d swear Steve Jobs is back
Making GOOD Music, the '04 Kanye is back
Resurrection, you’d swear the '94 Common is back
Spoke to John, he said that I’m a Legend
And being dope, «It Won’t Stop» feel like I’m dating Sevyn
To stop me you’ll need Twenty 88's but ya ain’t Big Sean
I ain’t saving shit, I’m not a coupon
They can’t keep up like I live on the autobahn
I guess I must be Nas when my next albums done
I’m aware that I think highly of myself
Because who else going to help me obtain wealth
Who else gone be there when I need help
No shots but I wrote every song I dealt
Niggas soft trying be hard I calls em felt
These cats wanna whoop my ass but ain’t got a belt
No wonder these niggas always gotta sag
They might as well be RuPaul and dress in drag
Gucci belt on my ass I never sag
Once in a blue moon thang, I hate to brag
Not K. Michelle obviously but I’m a «Rebellious Soul»
Tell Melanie Fiona I wanna cross «The Bridge» too lazy to pay the toll
Come through screaming Allahu Akbar cause I’m finna blow up They say that I’m too sick, guess that I make myself throw up Call me a baker, cause I’m trying get my dough up But in order to do that guess I gotta stack some blow up The Phantom Samurai, tell em that’s my intro
Stab you in the back tell Whodini that’s what friends fo'
Talk behind my back but waiting for my tour show
Going Nationwide with not one tour hoe
I still got my soul ask the inside of my shoes
Who’s Ace, they want clues but not even Blue
Ask Spandau Ballet am I king they tell you it’s «True»
I need a chocolate girl and cheese, all bout that like fondue
Buy her a cage if she wanna be a bitch though
Beat up the cat, that’s animal abuse though
Hoes swallow kids that’s child abuse though
When the choppa singing call it Enrico Carusso
But it’s a mute, not a fool bro
Call my songs Michael Myers cause they killer bro
We just hear ya voice so how can we feel ya bro
All the ones hating on me be fans on the low
Call me Wiz, spitting that 28 grams
Divide it by 2 that’s 14, oh man!!!
Times that by a hunnid that’s 14 hunnid man
My bad I mean I’m really spitting 1400 grams
Murder Inc., guess that makes me Irv Gotti then
Wrote this in ink, but I stay dodging the pen
Call me DJ Khaled, cause all I do is win
Learned the line between real and fake is super thin
Allergic to bullshit so I gotta keep some napkins
Got so many Styles, should change my name to Harry
Said so many Styles, should change my name to Harry
Bullets get to flying they only know One Direction
So much of a boss, should run in the next election
I Face Everything and Rise on my Papa Roach grind
The crown ain’t safe, on my King Los grind
Barber with the choppa knock back your hairline
Wake up grinding, muhfuckas just waste time