| I know I sell myself short, lookin' at the ceiling fan
|
| Spin around again and again
|
| This repetition got me stuck in a trance, big Glock in my pants
|
| Florida boy, do your dance, yeah, I made me some bands
|
| Yeah, I got me a Benz, yeah, I got me a chain
|
| And I still feel the same, and I still feel the same
|
| I put on for these rappers, I think I’m changing the game
|
| But if they don’t feel the same, then fuck it, get in my lane
|
| And see if you can get the crowd movin' for you the same
|
| And see if you can get the crowd movin' for you the same, yuh
|
| Is this it? |
| Is that all? |
| Got my back to the wall
|
| As I’m lookin' around, anticipatin' my fall
|
| Searchin' for answers but stuck with these questions
|
| Is somebody tryna teach me a new lesson?
|
| Is this it?
|
| Is that all?
|
| Is this it?
|
| Is that all? |
| (Alright, let’s go, let’s go)
|
| How long should I wait until I move on?
|
| Back to the air mattress and the coupons
|
| I realized it’ll never be enough for me
|
| What do I gotta do to live comfortably?
|
| I think I’d give it back if it was up to me
|
| My mind’s not movin' like it’s supposed to be
|
| These labels need to really back off of me
|
| I really don’t care what they offer me
|
| Okay, now you talkin' money, I guess you do speak my language
|
| I don’t give a fuck who you is or who you hang with
|
| Baby Bone, no, I never been the one to stay silent
|
| Everybody, grab your guns, let’s start a riot
|
| Are you so sick and tired of these men in your pockets
|
| That never even left the office but promise to give you just what you wanted?
|
| Oh no, now they got you stuck in a financial coffin
|
| Now you gotta pay 'em back with every cent of your profit |