Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Can't Complain, artist - Chris Webby. Album song Webster's Laboratory II, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 07.03.2017
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: EightyHD
Song language: English
Can't Complain |
All I had was a dream and a mixtape |
And some birthday money that I saved up |
Told myself I could be great |
And that mindset never changed up |
I don’t need it all, I could be straight |
With an iTunes check as a pay stub |
But then it popped off on release date |
And since then we been on the way up |
And we almost there and it feels so lovely |
Not rich yet but I’m gunna be |
Movin' on up from Double Tree |
To the Ritz hooked up with couple suites |
Till then I’m a still live comfortably |
But money ain’t shit when you love to be |
On the clock, and this shit’s fun to me |
So yo Juice go and pump the beat (let's go) |
Way back when I played that minor league |
It seemed nobody would ever make time for me |
It seemed nobody had plans of signing me |
So I grinded and grinded, then finally |
It’s time to be, the very same guy you see |
On websites they cite Web, the sight of the blind would see |
There’s no chance of denyin' me |
I’ll collect my own God damn finder’s fee |
I ain’t ballin' but I got a little money |
Ain’t a super star but I’m on TV |
Ain’t a player but I got a couple honies |
Whiskey bottle, bag of weed |
I got everything I need |
I can’t complain |
(Nah, nah, nah. Nah, nah nah) |
Nah, nah I can’t complain, nah nah I can’t complain, nah, nah, nah, nah |
(Nah, nah, nah. Nah, nah, nah) |
Nah nah I can’t complain, nah, nah I can’t complain |
It’s colder than a mother fucker out this bitch |
And I don’t even smoke weed rollin' up a spliff, I’m thinking if I should out |
this bitch |
Who next on the swish like JR Smith |
Rubbin elbows macaroni in a jar |
Like an international call you phony from afar Saying nothing in a hole like |
Zeroni in the yard |
This is 24/7 like Kobe and Lamar |
Antique in a museum you better to dust, you said it? |
Adjust |
Typical Connecticut stuff, Yeah |
We all know you ain’t ready to trust, so |
I’m poor to the line like a measuring cup, Yeah |
I’m a be here till whenever the fuck, pretty much in the mirror like |
gra-ta-ta-ta-ta |
They love ANoyd like bada-pa-pa-pa |
And I don’t got no job, I can’t complain tho |
I ain’t ballin' but I got a little money |
Ain’t a super star but I’m on TV |
Ain’t a player but I got a couple honies |
Whiskey bottle, bag of weed |
I got everything I need |
I can’t complain |
(Nah, nah, nah. Nah, nah nah) |
Nah, nah I can’t complain, nah nah I can’t complain, nah, nah, nah, nah |
(Nah, nah, nah. Nah, nah, nah) |
Nah nah I can’t complain, nah, nah I can’t complain |
Back when nobody was givin' a damn |
They were shootin' me down just like Missile Command |
So I pictured a plan, when I needed a dollar I sat up at night and envisioned a |
grand |
Now I’m gettin' a tan, with my kicks in the sand |
And a spliff in the sand, and a chick with no pants |
With a beautiful crib and a bottle of Jamie |
What else can I say? |
I just cannot complain, see |
I started with nothin' so somethin' is so |
Fuckin' amazing I’m lovin' it yo |
Wouldn’t say that I’m rich but enough of the dough’s in my pocket to live my |
life comfortable bro |
All I need is a fair amount, for all the work that I’ve carried out |
I moved out of my parent’s house, now the top is my whereabouts |
I ain’t ballin' but I got a little money |
Ain’t a super star but I’m on TV |
Ain’t a player but I got a couple honies |
Whiskey bottle, bag of weed |
I got everything I need |
I can’t complain |
(Nah, nah, nah. Nah, nah nah) |
Nah, nah I can’t complain, nah nah I can’t complain, nah, nah, nah, nah |
(Nah, nah, nah. Nah, nah, nah) |
Nah nah I can’t complain, nah, nah I can’t complain |