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I cop an O from O, I break it down at home I sell a J to Chris, a couple more to Mo And when it's almost done, I take a few to the dome And send a text from my phone And then I re-up, re-up I ain't sellin' it to make a livin' I'm just sellin' it to make some music Understand me when I tell you that this industry lives off the root of evil You ain't got it then your ass is useless I guess I sold my soul, for the only thing that can cure my soul And kill the cancer living in people's earlobes On channel 5, too, all I see is fly dudes Rapping 'bout money, hoes, more hoes, and nice shoes It's cool because I'm creating some substance Fueled by all this money that I'm makin' when I'm hustlin' The substance, assumptions are made when they think That I get paid from the raps that I write When it's really from the haze, blaze A little bit of cannabis after the fact After I've sold the last of the pack New clothes and shoes isn't what I'm investing in to I'm sellin' to make my dreams a reality When I wake up from this snooze I cop an O from O, I break it down at home SongtexteI sell a J to Chris, a couple more to Mo And when it's almost done, I take a few to the dome And send a text from my phone And then I re-up, re-up I cop an O from O, I break it down at home I sell a J to Chris, a couple more to Mo And when it's almost done, I take a few to the dome And send a text from my phone And then I re-up, re-up Said I ain't sellin' it to make a livin' I'm just sellin' it to pay for promotion In hopes that you would listen Most rappers make it off major connects and cosigns But my success is based off consistency in this low grime So every time you grind the purple you cop from me Just know that you the reason for my video money No label paid for me, I paved the way for me Tradin' dimes for recordin' time And tre fives for mo' beats, exclusives ain't cheap But thank God for Jab and Scott Hutch heat See that just took off half the risk that I'm taking Cause all this money I'm makin' is goin' to makin' My music sound like major labels made it Though, I hate it, it won't stop me from slavin' Cause this shit you callin' rap is really mine for the takin' All I see is black and white, no in between like I'm racist If I can't be on your playlist, I would rather be with Satan I cop an O from O, I break it down at home I sell a J to Chris, a couple more to Mo And when it's almost done, I take a few to the dome And send a text from my phone And then I re-up, re-up I cop an O from O, I break it down at home I sell a J to Chris, a couple more to Mo And when it's almost done, I take a few to the dome And send a text from my phone And then I re-up, re-up Ay, lil nigga All that sellin' weed shit ain't gon' get you paid You need to step your motherfuckin' game up Aus Songtexte Mania