| Yeah
|
| I went from forging my report card
|
| Skipping courses with my boys
|
| Smoking 'Ports up in the courtyard
|
| Poor choices wasn’t going far
|
| Rapping, hoping doors would open
|
| I was sure to be a born star
|
| I kept my sword sharp
|
| Rhyming when I finally got a deal at thirty-two
|
| I put the pedal to the floorboard
|
| Proving I could score points for the label, playing forward
|
| Steady waiting for the day to play the point guard
|
| Either way I’m still onboard, still on tour
|
| Sixty days and still long gone
|
| Hard to explain the feeling placing on the Billboard charts
|
| Whores rush the tour bus but you’re busted
|
| You’re nothing but a dildo toy
|
| Objectified, undress when you step aside
|
| And sexy and set beside the leather, fluorescent lights
|
| Set the vibe, never said goodbye, only next in line
|
| This is life, catch a flight: this is my exit sign
|
| When the hard times come wave ‘em goodbye
|
| In the end I won, time to take my victory lap
|
| Stand up for me, whistle, and clap
|
| It’s Last Call, homie, Rittz will be back
|
| On the track put ‘em up
|
| Put your peace signs up, have a good time
|
| It’s been one good run, 'bout to take my victory lap
|
| I’m thanking ya’ll for putting me on the map
|
| It’s Last Call, homie, I’ma be back
|
| I promise that
|
| Ya-Uh-Yeah
|
| They say I only rap fast but it’s my comfort zone
|
| Before, the younger me stumbled on Thuggish Ruggish Bone
|
| I’m like a bumble bee buzzing, functioning drunk and stoned
|
| Did a bump a blow and smoked a blunt
|
| And went and chugged Patron
|
| Running like I recovered the fumble thrown
|
| Running wrong way down the field, like fuck a go, internal compass broke
|
| No direction coming from a place, you could tell it’s safe
|
| Like you left the base and slid into the open home
|
| Like the kid that’s eatin' lunch alone, I don’t belong
|
| Raps redundant shit no wonder why they humming country songs
|
| Switching up, giving up. |
| Punctured holes sunk they boat
|
| Throwing in the towel cause when they dug they never struck for gold
|
| Fuck it, search your soul, you could grunt and moan
|
| Like I used to do with you, you could just adjust your tone
|
| Get the cream, fuck the cone
|
| Fuck it, grow up, it goes up, but no one controls what you want
|
| When the hard times come wave ‘em goodbye
|
| In the end I won, time to take my victory lap
|
| Stand up for me, whistle, and clap
|
| It’s Last Call, homie, Rittz will be back
|
| On the track put ‘em up
|
| Put your peace signs up, have a good time
|
| It’s been one good run, 'bout to take my victory lap
|
| I’m thanking ya’ll for putting me on the map
|
| It’s Last Call, homie, I’ma be back
|
| I promise that
|
| Ya-Uh-Yeah
|
| I done been around this country more than I can count
|
| Unfortunate my mind is cloudy. |
| Why can’t I remember shit?
|
| I done sold some albums, nothing to write home about
|
| I hope that when I’m gone I’ll be remembered for my penmanship
|
| I done noticed most of the rappers that I’ve met
|
| Are egotistical but fool you like they got a humble temperament
|
| From the outside looking in you think the game is what it ain’t
|
| It ain’t the music it’s the money and percentages
|
| Some business shit that you can’t comprehend so don’t pretend you can
|
| Shooting vids in alley ways, my Timberlands got bitches' shit
|
| Up in the tread so bad that they got trashed, they was a Christmas gift
|
| Shit like this reminds me of the time we wasn’t privileged
|
| Penny-pinching wasn’t spending it, so frivolous
|
| So this is for the fans in the beginning, they were listeners
|
| And let me and music have a chance and I’m appreciative
|
| My mission ain’t accomplished but you brought it where it is so
|
| When the hard times come wave ‘em goodbye
|
| In the end I won, time to take my victory lap
|
| Stand up for me, whistle, and clap
|
| It’s Last Call, homie, Rittz will be back
|
| On the track put ‘em up
|
| Put your peace signs up, have a good time
|
| It’s been one good run, 'bout to take my victory lap
|
| I’m thanking ya’ll for putting me on the map
|
| It’s Last Call, homie, I’ma be back
|
| I promise that
|
| Ya-Uh-Yeah |