Season Ticket Holder (feat. D. Wade, Raphael Saadiq & UD)

Hey UD What's good my boy? Mister 305 (Yes sir) Wade County Sixteen years later We done made history Three rings on our fingers Pockets gettin' fatter (Uh) Nigga we gettin' bread I'm the son of a saint, still considered a sinner (Ha) Three rings on his finger, yeah, that boy was a winner (Winner) Never known as a singer but this might be a single (Facts) Always bet on your homies, then go buy the casino (Ballin') Ball is my passion, check my stats if they askin' (Uh) Shawty checkin' my page, she follow my fashion (I'm clean) My life is a film and Gab's the lead She's so precious to me, as the air that I breathe Time to fuel up the jet, D-Wade jersey the drip (Yeah) Lamborghini's to match, got Guccis on the strip (Oh yeah) These haters beneath us as I'm lacin' my sneakers (You dig?) Season sixteen, Lamborghinis and Neimans I'm shootin' my shot (Shot) Every car that I cop (Cop), every record I break (Break) Every rock in my watch (Ah) Every step that I take (Take) Still won't step no mistakes (No) I'm talkin' major league, never minimum wage So proud to be niggas (Niggas), the descent of a slave (Uh) Motorcase, silver Mercedes, so get out my way Tangerines, still in my slippers, still twistin' up dank Shed a tear for all my homies, Black Bo and E. Gates Let's find a masseuse, then inspire the youth If it's best for the hood, then let's call it a truce My chains get tangled (Tangled), these niggas be hateful (Hate) My momma still prayin' (Prayin'), so really I'm grateful I'm still here, lookin' through the window Watchin' the days go by Watchin' the sun rise, why don't you try? Ah-ha, ah-ha, ah-ha I'm still here, lookin' through the window Watchin' the days go by Watchin' the sun rise, why don't you try? Ah-ha, ah-ha, ah-ha I promise to pray for a positive fate Had the world in your palms, but he caught him a case Shed a tear in the court, he got boxed in the crate Then they shipped him up North, mom just sat in a daze The bottles on ice, the models be nice (Yeah) We call it running shoe, any problems deny Serve him like Boris Becker, I want two hunnid checkers So if they wanna slow our records, it just won't effect us Take my boys to Mecca (Boss), all my niggas blessed (Maybach Music) Smokin' with my dawgs, you can smell the relish They try to give me Hell, I bet I get to Heaven I stay away from twelve, I'm such a gifted felon I'm seated on the floor (Floor) She can see the loafers (Woo) Showin' love to the season ticket holders (Woo) Showin' love to the season ticket holders (Woo) Showin' love to the season ticket holders (Woo) We do this for the city, U (What?) The whole city I'm still here, lookin' through the window Watchin' the days go by Watchin' the sun rise, why don't you try? Ah-ha, ah-ha, ah-ha I'm still here, lookin' through the window Watchin' the days go by (Man how does it feel, dawg?) Watchin' the sun rise, why don't you try? (You love doing this, how does it feel?) Ah-ha, ah-ha, ah-ha (Shit, it feels great nigga) I just want to know that my boy Man listen, we put on for the city, 16 years Five finals, three rings, we put those trophies over here We put on for the- shit, let me calm down Man let me calm down, man fuck Don't calm down my nigga You the mothafuckin' Mr. 305, nigga, do what you do Nigga I got my own county Listen, the love of the city has been crazy, man, I appreciate it all Thanks for giving my own county I told these niggas man, you got a beast? I gotta cross that bridge, nigga can't play with us, man Can't do nothing 'round here Hey Ross, man, ain't nothin but love, baby Big homie, you know what it is, always Still with the shits, three rings later though