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C-c-conductor Ayo, you fuck niggas will never, ever get close to this (Never) Rose out the coke, smoke to gold quote vocalist Dior coat with the toast in it Steppin' on your throat, niggas know I got the game in a cobra grip (Ha) My name been critically acclaimed, this the culture shift Back out, aim, smoke your shit (Bow!) The Glock got a clip that extend and hang low from it Got a flip-phone for the fiends, no associates (Nah) Stacks in the Fendi shoebox I'm selling potent shit Quick, how I went from broke to rich Say you "The greatest of all time" shit that you do, typical Slice the goat throat likе the voodoo ritual (Whoa) Sacrifice, you still be a bum in your aftеrlife Fingertips numb from bagging up white, half the night Lost your motherfuckin' mind if you think you rap alike (Fuck outta' here) You broke and I get brolic checks like Off-White Nikes The homie call me "Bloody" like a jailhouse knife fight (Whoa, oh) Get you any work for the right price Before my raps ever saw the light, swear my life was just like vice Drugs and dealing with plugs, fiends with crumpled up dubs Wax paper, scale mask and the gloves Know to differentiate between the hate and the love It's what it is, mother-fuck what it was (Fuck it) I rose above all the crabs tryna' keep me down deeper in mud (Haha) SongtexteGold slugs when I smile, keep weed in my lungs As far as wins you niggas never seen one, nigga (Never, fuck outta' here nigga) Mind on money, heart on froze (Bow, bow) Gun barrel on fire, smoke out the nose (Doot) Razor blade on the table I used to chop the O's Keep my Gucci soles, in a rapper fuckin throat Mind on money, heart on froze (Bow, bow) Gun barrel on fire, smoke out the nose (Doot) Razor blade on the table I used to chop the O's Keep my Gucci soles, in a rapper fuckin throat Ayo, check Time is money if it ain't bouta' dollar then I ain't got a minute (Nah) You slow niggas I'll teach you something like Bobby Hemmitt Negotiate I only slide with a high percentage You eighty-fives plagiarize but you guys finished (Yall niggas dead) I'm going global, they love my shit like a Bon Jovi vocal, this dope on pro-tools You niggas been lost ain't close to my old moves (Nah) The goals been to monetize and grow to a mogul Rise past the backstabbers, put tats on my old wounds No snake eye hoes, her aura gotta' be old school (Uh huh) So smooth, for error it's no room For real I was in between a deal, bag of pills and a dope spoon, nigga (We have a problem, we have a problem, we have a problem) FUCK OUTTA HERE! Aus Songtexte Mania