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[Intro] We done came up Everybody love 'em On the regular [Verse 1] Lookin' at popular colored faces Observing what my brothers faces in all races Lost in generations before hatred See with your eyes dilated for the sake of the Gs But keep it sacred G, f*ck a rat race, we take the cheese Jack cheddar from the make believe Break the trees on they eighth CD Rocking the red and black lumberjack faithfully I'm a Brooklyn n*gga, basically I grind with the grimiest Learn how to eat in the jungle full of hyenas And vultures, don't worry what a verse will cost ya From the young scorcher, just remember who taught ya I'm gonna spark it off unorthodox Won't sign to no major if no wager Less than a 3 million offer off the top I'll be in a box with my coughin' drops Why settle for a office spot? N*ggas don't always make it off the block Unless they extort rocks or support the cops They still snitchin' - let me guess: that's your mannequin? SongtexteLeave 'em shook while you're standing and quit the shenanigans Have you panicking, induce damages 'til you're vanishing Words or tour probably resort top sea examinin' This is for my real hip hop fans and 'em I dispose for 'em, leave fake MC's in the post mortem [Hook] Cause money ain't a thing if I got it I won't spend All I got is my Pros, I don't need no friends Feel like this glory road is coming to an end The only soul that won't sin No he won't give in Yo this world is bone chillin' Make meals in hell's kitchen with these dishes Properly delivered, drop trees in my swishers, And bring that back to my property wit' ya [Verse 2] It ain't easy being this royal When you got this much going for you It ain't hard to be disloyal Comin' straight from the soil with lines that never coil Start to think pretty off new career with this spoil The kid is that sick so expect more coffins I'm the chosen one so you can expect more offerings I be sonning n*ggas so expect less offerings Best rapper alive hear that line used less often Word to God I'm the best offering BMX like Hoffman BMF like Ross man Young boss, man, got Jimmy Fallon endorsements From porches, to Porsches, getting portions of fortune They said next up so I stepped up Fly like I dressed up B*tches try to hang like left nuts Like orangutans in the west of Of the mother land, but I've got the swank of no other man Brother man They can't understand Pro Era boys pop rubber band [Hook] Cause money ain't a thing if I got it I won't spend All I got is my Pros, I don't need no friends Feel like this glory road is coming to an end The only soul that won't sin No he won't give in Yo this world is bone chillin' Make meals in hell's kitchen with these dishes Properly delivered, drop trees in my swishers, And bring that back to my property wit' ya [Outro] Everybody love 'em We done came up I'ma spark it off unorthodox They don't feel the name, but they say the music dope though I'ma spark it off unorthodox On the regular Aus Songtexte Mania