Bossed Up

All my **** bossed up

Bossed up, yeah

All my **** bossed up

Bossed up, yeah

All my **** bossed up

Bossed up, yeah

All my ****, aye, aye

Aye, yeah, bossed up

Like the last level of Mario

The cardio, I go all night, turn up the barrio

Your bitch wanna meet Altoid but she a sorry ho

Crew deep like Dawson's Creek, shoutout Rosario

****, goddamn

Steam comin' out the mic, yeah, that's a hot man

Bitches in the DMs like I was a pop band

If I step up out the jet, then it's a hot land

You talkin' shit and suckin' dick but you ain't got fans

Goddamn, ****, ain't nobody hearin' your shit

You talkin' tough but I'm thе **** that you fearin' and shit

Okay, this **** wanted war but now he hеarin' the clip

Now he tearin' and shit

I put the Molly in my Minute Maid

Your pockets light, now come look at what a minute made

I can write two songs, make 'em ten seconds long

And I promise over you, they still gettin' played

I'm a young boss ****

I wake up and get my dick sucked

If you keep your life, that's only because the clip stuck

Wrist so bare, you really should get your piss up

Life don't fight fair, I woke up and put my fists up

All my **** bossed up, bossed up, aye

All my **** bossed up, bossed up, aye

All my **** bossed up, bossed up, aye

All my **** bossed up, bossed up, aye

Yeah, all my **** bossed up, bossed up

Yeah, all my **** bossed up, bossed up

Yeah, all my **** bossed up, bossed up

Yeah, all my **** bossed up, bossed up

Wrist pure white like I'm with the Klan

And then I'm kinda promiscuous, shoutout Timbaland

I keep a couple **** under like a boss do

Leave an opp six feet

Fuck with me, it's finna cost you

Boss who? I'm the **** runnin' the game

These **** paying for they fans

I ain't runnin' with lames

And all these fake ass **** with they fake ass fame

Got a hunnid K but nobody even know your name

Now, how that make sense?

With them weak ass streams, you **** make cents

You pay for studio time, I'm in my basement

And all your weak ass bars need a replacement

You got ghostwriters, I could never fake shit

Run up in your studio and take shit

Talkin' 'bout your jewelry 'cause your rhymes couldn't make shit

Run up in your momma house, my crew is finna break shit

I got my own style and you **** on some Drake shit

Point me in the whip and you gon' see just how the bass hit

Tryna make a wave 'cause all these **** really basic

LASIK, I chop shit just like surgery

The way these **** test me

I promise they never heard of me

They on my coat tails, ridin' me

They made a herd to me

The hate just give me more clout

You're not hurtin' me

I'm a young ****, just bossed up

And I snapped on the track

So I put my feature cost up

Bossed up, bossed up

Aye, all my **** bossed up, bossed up

Aye, all my **** bossed up, bossed up

All my **** bossed up, bossed up

Yeah, all my **** bossed up, bossed up

Yeah, all my **** bossed up, bossed up

Yeah, all my **** bossed up, bossed up

Yeah, all my **** bossed up, bossed up