| I hear the beat and start crying
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| It’s quarter past 4 I’m on the corner still trying
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| I quarterback it all, just trying to make my quota
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| A stranger on this corner so I barely make a quarter back
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| I’m at the condo with Cardo
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| Apartment in Parkdale that’s where I do my recording
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| Meetings with Solo, that’s my shooter up in Sotto & Sotto
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| In the 6 but it ain’t OVO though
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| Money Team ain’t no squares in my oval
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| I shine around the world bitch I’m global*
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| At the shows meeting fans taking photos
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| Barely making rent off the show dough
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| Back when I would smoke with Lim he’d teach me how to cope with things
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| He told me cut the grass and don’t you let the cobras in
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| He could have been Kobe with a little coaching
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| But on my culture that’s my nigga we’ll be close again
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| My auntie walking with a cane
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| I’m walking through the rain
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| I’ve barely got a dollar to my name
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| Every dollar I would gain, would be the same dollar I’d deposit to the game
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| I charge it to the game
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| Baby mama stressing
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| I’m counting down the days, she told me count my blessings
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| I’d rather count the paper, mama call the reverend
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| Like I need Jesus, there’s things that need addressing
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| Like why I ain’t got no deal
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| My baby brother off the pill, I want to fight him that’s my blood for real
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| I guess he likes the thrill
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| My bigger brother kind of liked it too
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| He in the bin now and I ain’t even writing to him
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| I got my own problems
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| I got my daughter in December
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| It’s edging on November
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| Can’t even make the rent out my apartment in September
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| Been broke since like forever
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| So if ya' nigga ever hit a lick I can’t remember
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| What the feeling is like
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| I wonder what a million is like
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| All my niggas in the building tonight
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| Ready to make a killing tonight
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| I could chill or peel a cap, nigga that’s life
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| I could seal a pack, deliver that, and deal with the strife
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| Or I could stomach that and cry into my pillow tonight
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| I punk niggas, black punk nigga for life
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| What’s up with niggas?
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| The cost of living, I know they livid
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| Sean Leon, the Corleone, my core frigid
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| On point with every sentence, like I’m fencing
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| On guard, so it’s offensive when you say I’m next then
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| Like I ain’t Wayne Gretzky meets Bruce Wayne meets Hussein
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| I got that bomb, I’m 2 Chainz meets Wu-Tang
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| I’m Pootie-tang when the pistols pop, her pussy came
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| If you’re dissing, don’t be sneaking, say my name
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| I’m from the era of shitty virals and cheapened fame
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| I fall in love with a moment I’ll never need again
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| I hope I see it with my friends before I see the end
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| Until we meet again
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| It’s over |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song September 7th , by - Sean Leon. Song from the album King of the Wild Things, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп