| The natives want me out of the office, back on the pavement
|
| Jokers at the top know the king is nothin' to play with
|
| 9 to 5 money is just as sweet as the grave shift
|
| El presidenté, Blowbama, blow by ya
|
| Chopper next to me in every picture, Osama
|
| Oh mama, they question my starting line up
|
| You only find a diamond from diggin' like coal miners
|
| Don’t listen to 'em, Desiigner
|
| The same rappers talkin' next year will be Uber drivers (Fuck 'em)
|
| Chanel dad hats, but you don’t know that they got 'em
|
| Trap door shopper, they rotate the wall
|
| So you will never see me as you rotate the mall
|
| 330 spin, cook a steak up on this grill
|
| Me myself and I, we like a hamster in the wheel
|
| Rolls emblem, Black Virginian
|
| Pull in a neighborhood I don’t blend in
|
| Album of the year contender every year
|
| The kitchen’s full of work, it’s blenders everywhere
|
| Blended bitches everywhere that do the most
|
| They never seen with him so they fuck his ghost
|
| Invisible man, timepiece with the invisible hands
|
| MJ, remember the time they counted in sand Hourglass
|
| But mine come with purse and heels
|
| And the DIY Gucci with the crest and shields
|
| It’s too far gone when the realest ain’t real
|
| I walk amongst the clouds so your ceilings ain’t real
|
| These niggas Call of Duty cause their killings ain’t real
|
| With a questionable pen so the feelin' ain’t real
|
| Rap’s John Grisham
|
| I can paint the picture with the words if you listen (shh)
|
| The bar’s been lowered, the well’s run dry
|
| They beefin' over melodies, but no, not I (yugh)
|
| See I’m so top 5
|
| If they factor in the truth I just might just blow by
|
| Blowbama |