| Yeah
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| I’m just sayin' that, yeah
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| I just, damn
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| Yeah, yeah
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| I take my licks in the storm, bitch do me raw
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| Yeah, still fuckin' 'til six in the morn'
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| Son, how I flooded out the wrist to reward
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| Damn, they don’t make 'em like this anymore
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| Don’t try to hold that, you can’t control that
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| I bought the 'Rari, the Tesla, then I got the throwback
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| I used to ride it, the Honda that was black as Kodak
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| And I recall it, like a picture, that is, really, that’s sick
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| Big screen livin' shit, sixteen nearin', and
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| «Zay, 'fore you leave, Can you fuck me in the mirror, yeah?»
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| Baby, I got too many bitches, not to mention them
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| Hoes, I don’t even know they names but they be feelin' it tough
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| They wanna touch me like under covers and anacondas
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| Before you fuckin' go purchase your Gary Paytons
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| I’m really not everybody, sippin' and talkin' 'bout, «Who's your daddy?»
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| You shouldn’t fuck with these niggas, we was the reckless
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| Yeah, I fuck my bitch when I’m bored, rich from the poor
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| Drunk, high, stumblin' off the shits and record
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| Smooth nigga, even when I miss, I’ma score
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| Damn, they don’t make 'em like this anymore
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| Zay, I don’t agree what you talkin', I ain’t no regular
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| Fuck you think they callin' me, «Him?"I'm a competitor
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| Levelin', young veteran, more lines than editors
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| Shit, why you think we Top Dawgs? |
| Niggas different, uh
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| I been that nigga since Hov was Big Pimpin'
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| Fly nigga, ain’t no gravity, damn
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| Say somethin' slick, we on your line like a family plan
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| I used to throw up gang signs out my granny new van
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| Just some young hood niggas with no guidance like Drake and Chris
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| My latest shit, make niggas elevate they pimp
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| My new chick always say she ain’t no basic bitch
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| Well, tell me why we always argue over basic shit? |
| That’s crazy
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| 2020, we can burn one
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| I done took way too many Ls and I ain’t earned some
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| No more buyin' bags for bitches that can’t afford one
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| No more gettin' brain from bitches that I can’t learn from
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| Look, we done went from H to the Izzo
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| To now a bunch of niggas and bitches with all gimmicks
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| Show they ass more than Lizzo, shit (That's my baby, haha)
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| This shit screwed up (Oh), I stayed the same like grenades
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| When I took my pen out, a nigga blew up (Look)
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| I used to ride through the six with my boys, kick in your door
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| Psychoanalysis, I feel like Sigmund Freud
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| Video vixen, she copped her tits from the store, said
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| «Damn, they don’t make 'em like this a-»
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| Bitch, you are doorbell dumb
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| Lookin' from crumbs in the cracks of a couch in a mad house
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| I laugh out loud at shit I’m mad 'bout
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| Cash cow or mad cow if I ever cashed out
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| Backpedals and tackles just turn into the rap route
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| Mac robbin' niggas with MACs after he maxed out
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| Called him again, minimum chance he get back out
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| Scope and a lens, we was kids with bubble wrap
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| Oblivious to the fact the candy lady was a trap house
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| Slidin' through the city, I’m like Sly and the Stones
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| I got the fam and the blicky if you’re eyein' me wrong
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| Told the cop, «It ain’t the fifties, I’ll pop this chrome
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| And I will not be wrong,"next stop we home (Yeah)
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| With gin I’m in some pussy, I was knee-deeper than Funkadelics
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| I am legend, that explain all the will that a nigga carry
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| Talkin' real big wheel like Ferris, top that shit from the greatest
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| Newborn babies, that shit newly apparent, REASON
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| I take my licks in the storm, bitch do me raw
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| Yeah, still fuckin' 'til six in the morn'
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| Son, how I flooded out the wrist to reward
|
| Damn, they don’t make 'em like this anymore
|
| Yeah, I fuck my bitch when I’m bored, rich from the poor
|
| Drunk, high, stumblin' off the shits and record
|
| Video vixen, she copped her tits from the store, said
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| «Damn, they don’t make 'em like this a-»
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| Don’t wanna hold on to somebody who I cannot trust
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| You’ve seen that I have been trying since the very beginning
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| Then the situation gets a little worse (Yeah), and I try to forget
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| And then it gets a little worse, and I try to forget
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| You gon' keep adding people?
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| Soulful (Yeah, yeah) |