| Through all continue to build
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| We have to respect the come up
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| Look at how far you’ve come
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| Respect the journey, man
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| Count the blessings, accept the changes
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| Appreciate the highs and the lows
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| For the good and the bad all make us who we are today
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| There is no ups without downs
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| To struggle way out, you respect your own journey
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| Respect when you see someone who comes from nothing
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| And turns it into something
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| Now that’s everything
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| Get the fuck up
|
| Respect the come up
|
| Cheques, haffi run up
|
| Get the fuck up
|
| Respect the come up
|
| Cheques, haffi run up
|
| Huh
|
| Get the fuck up
|
| Respect the come up
|
| Cheques, haffi run up
|
| Never cheat the grind
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| You know I need to fly, stay away fro evil eye
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| I’ma keep my G’s alive
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| If I said it is for life
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| If I want it, what’s the price?
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| Spending what I like
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| Got it off of chopping white
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| On my block it wasn’t nice
|
| Got me robbing to survive
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| Money problems on my mind
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| Pull up, «Like what’s the vibe?»
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| Keep my name off your mind
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| I ain’t into gossip lies
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| There ain’t no shortcuts to success
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| Surrounded by buj at 17 when I seen my first bunk-bed
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| Never know what’s gonna come next
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| Police knocking at my door got my mum stressed
|
| Gotta stay ready, make the re-up stay heavy
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| Never weigh pennies, gotta save pounds
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| I don’t rap, I make sounds
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| I been 'bout since the playground
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| Dropped a tune, never knew that it’d take me out
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| Fuck, they’re my mates now
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| Came up, I coulda stayed down
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| Look at how my life played out
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| Look at how we turned out
|
| Still niggas wanna see me turn 'round
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| Get your shit peppered up and burned down
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| Still own my old Nikes, Chuckies and my Berghaus
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| I went to jail and didn’t learn nowt
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| Except all that karma that I served out
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| I went from serving cats to servery hats, getting burnt down
|
| It’s really mad, fuck it, time on my hands
|
| I used my time wisely and put mine into plans
|
| I’m tryna buy me some land, so free my guys out the can
|
| Get the fuck up
|
| Respect the come up
|
| Cheques, haffi run up
|
| Get the fuck up
|
| Respect the come up
|
| Cheques, haffi run up
|
| Huh
|
| Get the fuck up
|
| Respect the come up
|
| Cheques, haffi run up
|
| Ayo, deef
|
| And when they told me Louis ain’t racist, they got Virgil
|
| I said I need the ones with green and the purple
|
| And, shit, I need the boots and the trainers to match
|
| And knowing me, I’ll go insane in the trap
|
| And I only smoke flays out the pack
|
| My nigga told me, «You the greatest to rap»
|
| I ain’t complaining with that
|
| But now I need a crib where the neighbours ain’t ashamed to adapt
|
| That whip came, by wrist aching, put it straight on the tap
|
| I used to stay with a cat
|
| All I need is my blade and my mask
|
| Them times saving for straps
|
| Winner’s wages are daft
|
| Maze in traps, and fuck the snakes and the rats
|
| They think I’m rich like, «Six figs what you made off of trap»
|
| I get rich, I rob nigs and turn flake into crack
|
| If I rap, it’s straight statements and fact
|
| It was alleyways blatant for cash
|
| Pavements and paths
|
| You get blades for your stash till my papers are mad
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| If I did it, I ain’t taking it back
|
| Fuck, it’s 10K on my back
|
| Got me thinking, «Will I ever change?»
|
| Fuck drip, I just let it rain
|
| I ain’t playing any games
|
| 'Heavyweight', that’s my second name
|
| I remember fucked up on borke nights, better days
|
| Can’t stress the fame, just bless the game
|
| Respect the change
|
| Let me kick back and test the strain
|
| Certain things can’t left my brain
|
| I might fly Thailand, go test my aim
|
| No weed for couple weeks to refresh my brain
|
| I get pissed off, can’t bun weed when I’m on the plane
|
| My head’s gone 'cause I was gone for days
|
| Cah I miss them times with my bros
|
| All them highs, all them lows
|
| Tryna find me a road
|
| But I can’t give my life to a phone
|
| I bless the game with the finest of flows
|
| Bet I’ll find me the throne
|
| All them days I spent flying them O’s
|
| Heh, I didn’t know that my timing was gold
|
| I stay golden for life, miss my bro
|
| Why, why you gotta die? |
| You the GOAT
|
| Creating diamonds, I got ice in my throat
|
| This that ocean drip, I might just buy me a boat
|
| So I can kick back, write rhymes on my own
|
| Get the fuck up
|
| Respect the come up
|
| Cheques, haffi run up
|
| Get the fuck up
|
| Respect the come up
|
| Cheques, haffi run up
|
| Huh
|
| Get the fuck up
|
| Respect the come up
|
| Cheques, haffi run up
|
| Get the fuck up
|
| Respect the come up
|
| Cheques, haffi run up
|
| Get the fuck up
|
| Respect the come up
|
| Cheques, haffi run up
|
| Huh
|
| Get the fuck up
|
| Respect the come up
|
| Cheques, haffi run up |