Smell of Success

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Jag Gatz

3:09

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This the smell of success
Ain't hard to tell em who next
I'm raising hell I'm possessed
Need to excel f*ck the rest
I'm living well not much stress
Cuz by myself been the best
Don't need no help I'm obsessed
All with that smell of success
Try to catch the scent, it's accurate
I'm of that descent that has to blend
The smell of hard grind with want for extravagance
I promise I ain't get this good on accident
I snatch the trends, and cut through ones that had to end
That's why there's never-ending styles that Jag invent
Energy I put in you can't imagine it
You give your all and you couldn't even match a tenth
Now the match is lit, on fire just to match the wits
Me winning this much, they think the match is fixed
But I just built a home inside the practice gym
And kept this shit a thou-wow like a stack a tens
So me achieving bitch you can't prevent
I get heated then I have to vent
I'm a big deal, watch the way that that motherfucking max extend
Cuz lengths I go, nobody reaching that extent
So bring the action in, and what's happening
Everything gold platinum check the packaging
The boy ravishing, this whole game I be ravaging
Shit's godly what I'm averaging
Forever damaging
Opposition I go bash em in
Routines in the endzone, know I'm maddening
They get a sniff of the scent and all start panicking
Cuz soon as you think I'm gone, then I'm back again
This the smell of success
Ain't hard to tell em who next
I'm raising hell I'm possessed
Need to excel f*ck the rest
I'm living well not much stress
Cuz by myself been the best
Don't need no help I'm obsessed
All with that smell of success
See me I started with less
That's why you don't see me stressed
Y'all playing checkers, this chess
All praise to God cuz I'm blessed
All praise to God cuz I'm next
Aim for the dome, not the vest
I do this all for the set
They better show me respect
Hold up, you know it's finna go up
Got my cleats on so the track getting tore up
You know they all sweating when I show up
Maybe I should slow up, nah tell the boys to pour up
Tell the boys, to hop in the runner
Cold in the winter but we hot in the summer
All these boys, wish they was Gunna
Me and Jag keep it real, they hate when we run up
They don't got they own style so they hating on the come up
Mad that we smooth like butter
Mad we could take they girl number
Mad that we stunting but we humble
Mad that we ain't afraid to rumble
They don't want us in the game, they don't want us in the field
Hating from the bench cuz they know we got skill
Gotta watch huh, even when you run drills
Be your own teammates that be going for the kill
Be your own mans, tryna kill you with the hit stick
Always on that switch shit
Talk shit, and move hella mischief
Keep your eye out, be aware for the quick diss
They just hating, cuz they stuff is simplistic
Know I come with the business
Know I roll with the misfits
Bag full of tools, you can tell the opps it's Christmas
This the smell of success
Ain't hard to tell em who next
I'm raising hell I'm possessed
Need to excel f*ck the rest
I'm living well not much stress
Cuz by myself been the best
Don't need no help I'm obsessed
All with that smell of success

 The easy, fast & fun way to learn how to sing: 30DaySinger.com