| Woke up, glow up, yeah
|
| A lot of y’all still don’t know us, so what?
|
| Nothin' but Satan, no love, get no love
|
| But ain’t talk, that’s my bonus
|
| But my quota, (What's that?)
|
| Boy, don’t nobody own us
|
| HGA that’s the law, yeah
|
| Spurgeon with the Baldwin
|
| Commas way after callin'
|
| Patrick Ewing in the Garden
|
| Goin' for my people starvin'
|
| Keepin' up with no Joneses
|
| Generous with my goal, yeah
|
| Boy, don’t nobody own us
|
| Squad needed merch so we bought our own shop
|
| Free as my own hair, but I got it on lock
|
| Counted our loss, counted our loss
|
| Excuse me, I’m just tryna trust God
|
| Finished all my lab, did it there for the money
|
| God said had to write it on the check
|
| Don’t nobody own us
|
| This right here ain’t a loaner
|
| I move forward, too focus
|
| All out of games, no tokens
|
| No token, what’s that?
|
| Boy, don’t nobody own us
|
| Bet the bag on myself, yeah
|
| Bet the bag on myself, yeah
|
| Bet the bag on myself, yeah
|
| Boy, don’t nobody own us
|
| Bet the bag on myself, yeah
|
| In a lane with myself, yeah
|
| In a lane with myself, yeah
|
| Boy, don’t nobody
|
| No nonsense, (No nonsense?)
|
| Yeah
|
| I taught KBj no nonsense, yeah
|
| Don’t you ever skip my process
|
| Does it honor God and conscience?
|
| You owe nothin' but your love man
|
| Boy, do what you want man
|
| Was trappin' out apartments
|
| Now I’m takin' off on Tarmacs
|
| Don’t be driven by a contract
|
| Have your lawyer check the CARFAX
|
| Not amazed with contact
|
| There ain’t nothin' that my God lacks
|
| I don’t need none of your star stats
|
| I was good way before rap
|
| Wrote these so my God claps
|
| Hall of Fame, where my guards at?
|
| Hip-Hop won’t involve this
|
| Radio hasn’t bought this
|
| Way, way too exhausted
|
| To tap dance for your profits
|
| I’m in love with my core fans
|
| Only die before the door slams
|
| Write free on my coffin
|
| Christ rules with my content
|
| Race, faith, and devotion
|
| Free sons and the daughters
|
| Free sons and the daughters
|
| Boy, don’t nobody
|
| I’m in my bag, I’m back to back compassionate
|
| With a faster whip, with a fashion sense
|
| Don’t try to tell me how to act in this
|
| I’m black and rich and a Nazareth
|
| And passages attached to Him
|
| That’ll activist with a dash of wrist
|
| But I’m back to biz, and packs of kids
|
| And the facts are lit, get back on the fact that is
|
| The master is back in this
|
| Cannot fathom this, born again
|
| Only one manumit
|
| Woke up, show love
|
| A lot of y’all still don’t know us, so what?
|
| He said death can’t hold us
|
| Nah, I’ma tell ya’ll my motive
|
| Boy, don’t nobody own us
|
| Back to back with myself, yeah
|
| Bet the bag on myself, yeah
|
| Bet the bag on myself, yeah
|
| Boy, don’t nobody own us
|
| In a lane with myself, yeah
|
| In a lane with myself, yeah
|
| In a lane with myself, yeah
|
| Boy, don’t nobody us |