Lyrics Be You - Mark Battles, Curren$y

Be You

Momma said, go be great son and do what you love
As long as you ain’t stealing and ain’t moving no drugs
Always be an honest man, I think the truth is enough
When you stop doing you is when you’re doing too much
You gotta be you, be you, be you
You gotta be you, be you, be you
You gotta be you, be you, be you
You gotta, you gotta, you gotta
That’s my nigga spitting, if he call, I’m on the way
Nostradamus, philosophic, when he blowing J’s
In my city, bumping Dizzy, this the golden age
She hit my mentions, reminiscing 'bout the older days
Got the game, it’s 'bout time the ref blow the whistle
Collecting profit and we pop it like a loaded pistol
With my homies, they just chilling, probably rolling swishers
Don’t them niggas get to shooting like you photogenic
Know we did it, window shopping with the baddest women
And she suck me 'til I’m sleep, but she classy with it
Daddy get it, you just wanna join the family business
You ain’t help me get it started, how we plan to finish
Can’t replenish the time started, my mind sharper
Give me the title like Shawn Carter, I grind harder
All these niggas is just see through
Watching it how we do, you should try and be you
Momma said, go be great son and do what you love
As long as you ain’t stealing and ain’t moving no drugs
Always be an honest man, I think the truth is enough
When you stop doing you is when you’re doing too much
You gotta be you, be you, be you
You gotta be you, be you, be you
You gotta be you, be you, be you
You gotta, you gotta, you gotta
Closed a deal a day, time to celebrate
Bong rips in the elevator, take it all the way to the top floor playa
Penthouse spent about 1.5 maybe more, fuck it though
Make more, put that bus bag on the roll, touring town
Smoking pounds, we cooked up to get tore down
Full of that top shelf so go on and help yourself around
We got so much of it, it’s like I’m stuck with it
That’s why I struck it rich, never on no sucker shit
I would never fuck with it, carry it, uh, like my luggage kid
Gucci roll away, marble rolling trays
3.9 shooting Jays, Reggie Miller
In that killer Chevrolet, hit a swisher, super laid out
Six-tray, motherfucking rag top
Pass by your house, look like a drive-by
Bitches pass out
Momma said, go be great son and do what you love
As long as you ain’t stealing and ain’t moving no drugs
Always be an honest man, I think the truth is enough
When you stop doing you is when you’re doing too much
You gotta be you, be you, be you
You gotta be you, be you, be you
You gotta be you, be you, be you
You gotta, you gotta, you gotta
I wake up with a smile on my cheek
That bullet missed me by an inch, coulda been found in the street
Really started from the bottom, I was bound in the heat
Now I just got off tour, twenty thousand a week
Cause this sound is unique, aye, respect my nigga Cuse for the beat
That’s my dude 'til I’m deep, are they hating?
I ain’t losing no sleep
Conversation turn a friend to a leech
And that jealousy is common, we was made to compete
Don’t focus on the neg, it gets you down if you let it
Get your mind out your feelings, man, you gotta keep it separate
I keep making deposits since I never get the credit
Stay humble through the struggle, ain’t no telling where it’s headed
Since a kid I was making this true, like Madagascar raised in a zoo
Get a fast car, race with my crew, love for most, only hate for a few
I bet you hate what we do, Battles
Momma said, go be great son and do what you love
As long as you ain’t stealing and ain’t moving no drugs
Always be an honest man, I think the truth is enough
When you stop doing you is when you’re doing too much
You gotta be you, be you, be you
You gotta be you, be you, be you
You gotta be you, be you, be you
You gotta, you gotta, you gotta