Créditos
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Ruben Bailey
Songwriter
Raymond Crawford
Songwriter
Letras
Yeah, something they can't understand
Woah
Reporting live from the top floor, this the morale they been waiting for
I can't say when that shit gone happen
But keep grinding and it's gone pay off that's all I Know nigga
Might do it sad, might do it broke might
Even have a couple day ones turn hoe on you
That's okay though, we still gone ball anyway though
Do it to the fullest, do it how they couldn't
Show me how you make a million with a neutral bullet stupid
I gotta go, business calls; Mexico city, vamonos
Yo money muy pequito my nigga, adios
I ain't gotta talk I let the aura boast
This that hit yo soul flow
This when me and Young would pass my dream house on Warner Road
He saved my life and he ain't even know
I just pray I get a Benz like I'm Southside Sco, fasho
Some play the stands, some run the show
It's always what they heard, never what they know
Long as they print it we gone get it and that's on the bros
I'm having dreams on Warner Road
They voted me out the chair like Republic party
Damn shawty who you fuck think got the party started?
I'm stil jamming like I'm Bob Marley
Still on the road straight from O Charlie's
Manifesting like I'm Marcus Garvey
I never started to smell myself when I could've farted
I never tooted my own horn when I should've honked it
Your best music, I'm involved in
Who's the common denominator I'm trying to solve it
So don't go preach about no loyalty
Or how my pops supported me
'Cause who put it up when you was cut from your family tree
Who came when you called? Nigga me
Who always thanked you for it all? Nigga G
Fuck being too solid I was three
Know what you on, I know how he think
That's why everyone of your friendships sink
Go tell the world, tell 'em
You gone tell 'em how you made me
Tell 'em about them lies about how I'm tripping or how I'm crazy
Tell 'em how I'm broke and I can barely feed my baby
Tell' em bout some old bitches that try to play me
Tell 'em how I stuck with all the day ones and you hate it
Tell 'em I'm insecure about my living situations on some mo shit
When we was teenagers Nigga
'Cause we both know you'll never tell it to my face
You stil living in a fantasy, I face my demons everyday
How ironic, you still a bitch (Woof)
Look yours in the face
It's a marathon not a race, on my own journey, my pace
Thought about killing you but you been dead for years anyway
Bring the hook back
Some play the stands, some run the show
It's always what they heard, never what they know
Long as they print it we gone get it and that's on the bros
I'm having dreams on Warner Road
Warner road
Look within to blur the line
Where dreams end and life begins
Invite the haters so they can rsvp to see you win
As the spark in your heart ignites your soul with righteous fire
Even doubters must admit that your the shit as they admire
The way that you inspire
Self and others to aim higher
How you prove with every move you will obtain what all desire
That state of being
That frame of mind
We long for as if seated in our core design
That drive to strive for greater things
And live our lives realizing all our dreams
Writer(s): Ruben Bailey, R Bailey
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