Lyrics 88 - Wale

88

Yeah
So it’s on me
So it’s on me
So it’s on me
I copped threes for the whole team
So it’s on me
I copped threes for the whole team
Now we at the top
MJ, 88, and I ain’t ever gonna stop
Carolina blue kicks
Hottest nigga on your block
I ain’t J.R. Rider but them wolves coming for my spot
From the percentage of youngins winning without no college
I’m in my Laneys but nothing JV about this balling
I lost my deal, got with Will he seen a nigga genius
My rapping skills is on Chapel Hill but you ain’t see it
Eyes low, pyro
Grape swisher, my 5's on
My opposition decline slow
My J’s straight out of China like they be Cairo
Shout out to Tyga but my squad Balenciaga
One of the rarest in flyest niggas to rep the chocolate
It was all a dream, it was all a dream
Never Michael Jeffrey in 17s, I’m staying with my team
No bullshit loyalty rare
And don’t worry 'bout it shawty we here
So it’s on me!
I copped threes for the whole team
Now we at the top
MJ, '88, and I ain’t ever coming down
Work
So it’s on me
I copped threes for the whole team
Now we at the top
MJ, '88 and I ain’t ever comin down
Work
And the people say
And the people say
Groupies everywhere, I’m mentally prepared
I got a black and red joint, I bet they thinking bred
They tryna see me fail
Just know my thinking and my sneakers rare
Get that Chi-Town love, I’m in Leaders gear
Bet they got they pom-poms up
Soon as I see O’Hare Seven
I make a damn movie fooly
I been the dookie
These rappers is Sam Bowie to me
I was a Bowie student
It wasn’t really nothing
That’s why I kicked it and blew grass like Boise punter
This is no Space Jam
I’m out the globe stunting
I’m a one man band, I prolly Jordan 1 em
And all my singles golden
I will not forfeit, this my defining moment you know
Seven Eleven, yea I got 'em open
Eleven pair of 7s, they touching my rap touring
It was all a dream, it was all a dream
And when I’m 45, do it like I’m 23
And premature, tell me I’m wrong if a nigga swing I feel it jack
I was just waiting 'til the sixth ring