Lyrics

The youngins love me for the Hermes These old niggas hating in the worst way 'Cause I am both Crispy Fresh and Throwback Thursday Hating from a distance but switch position in person Ey who birthed them? Ya'll niggas preemie immature I'm pre-Yachty, killing shows That's why I'm leaving, see the tour Couple seasons in a row No seasoning on my sole It's Hibachi shrimp and chicken outta Seoul You start the tripping, lift the bitch outta your soul Niggas thought they had a chick until they seen the insta-stories The streets are vicious they take chicken out your bowl She gon' miss him for a trip To somewhere distant on the globe And that's all she wrote But nowhere near the level of what Stogie told I planted the seeds for trees, but only petals grow I guess when they get dried up They'll say I smoked them, though I'm on my knees, sending prayers Hoping God can hear me And save me from myself And everything I'm not sincerely And keep the market friendly Critics lie, they jot with envy For lousy retweets and seem deep These cups are plenty And they nod for many Hate to applaud shit Crabs in the bucket mind Souls in a mosh pit They quick to celebrate everything that you flawed with Only make you a legend when you stiff in a coffin It's nonsense Wanna rock the boat but can't stay afloat They can't swim where we swim At shark infested coasts Drowning by the thousands This city is a pressure dome We went from peasants to kings We know the best of both So I ain't sweating those Little shots ain't getting close Balenciaga step on toes All this Prada press your souls I'm ready to pay the price This shit was hefty I'm a beast in these streets Cold hearted, Africa's [?] I should channel my Steve Biko 'Cause if I mic what I like I might free a few I had dreams so big, they had dreams too Broke boy but not to these records I'm Steve Segal Their lives are pretentious Mine's bleek but I might fly out to Memphis You an apprentice to your own shit It's senseless It's so sad that your music is none of your business What a wow I'm probably the reason these kids walking around Screaming "What a life" I made stencils, they just spray shit I got the six, might get a Drake on my next shit Pretty flower, how you've grown I wonder if you'd'a rose if I ain't dropped these flows You started from the bottom, that's fresh But we know before you got here You was on a young quest
Writer(s): Boitumelo Ndida Sinqumo Molekane, Gift Magubane, Jesse Caldon Mollett, Senzo Mfundo Vilakazi Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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