Lyrics:
here's a hot-ass item to bring you
Had a car, Roley, and house before my first single
I know how y'all niggas roll, quiet as a tear
My album ain't even
z
I guess by now you can tell you miss me
The baddest motherfucker in rap history
One to the temple put you out your misery
That's not an album
Hit it
Milly rocking round the city
While I'm tryna get my bars up
Got these fools feelin' dizzy
Can't ride, get your cars up
Yeah, Imma swerve lanes
I ain't real enough
Got my bags all packed
She don't wanna love
She just want the past
I been growin' up
But I still hit gas
Goin' way too far
Goin'
play by the rules like
Tock, tick, when the clock hit one
Y’all niggas is done
Buckshot’s it, you need to stop
It don’t matter, the Porsche
it's a hit, before Chamillionaire even start on a track
I pull up in slow motion, like my car on a flat
Trunk going up, like directions that you saw
wrote the crossover
But if the album sellout I'd be considered a sellout
The fans keep asking whens the album gonna come out
Ask your local execs I'm
U-F-F-I-E is heard
Two million plays way before my album's coming out
So when you hear this track, best believe I hit the 5
Givin' props to all my crew, my
the night i whip my car with no lights
Waiting for you cross by with a bike
I’m not alright i do not like anyone who Don’t like to fight
Never met anyone my
More than the average bear that’ll roam around in the forest
You hit it off with Drea that jealousy was euphoric
That month I made an album and no one
night
Verse One, Jay-Z:
To the top wit my niggas
Pop wit my niggas
Drive by in whips, rock rocks wit my niggas
Break day on the hottest block wit my
Mil' on the wax, mil' on the car
Ten mil' on the crib honey grand on the bro
You fuckin' with a boss
When the beast by ten
Lil' trick, you a star, trick
an album that'll put a smile on Malcolm
Make Martin Luther tell God I'm the future for Heaven's talent
No tarot card reading; I'm foreseeing you niggas
The world by the balls, eatin' out my palm
Every album song I was spazzin'
The fuck out on
And now I'm gettin' frowned and clowned on
But the only one who's
the banister
Shoot him on camera then kill his manager
Then hang a banner up
That reads you can't proceed
Without bein' conceived
By one album of the 90's
a bitch with a car bomb (ayy)
Hit a bitch with a car bomb (ayy)
Hit a bitch with a car bomb (ayy)
Hit a bitch with a car bomb (ayy)
Are you Henny or are
just hit Swizz on the phone
He on the car lot
I'm a star, I got love for the game
But I'm still a thug mang
But a slug in yo' brain
N' put blood stains
just hit Swizz on the phone
He on the car lot
I'm a star, I got love for the game
But I'm still a thug mang
But a slug in yo' brain
N' put blood stains
Who God Bless
Chorus
Lord please speak to me. Bring back my mind where it needs to be.
Feels like my life already hit a peak, but I know that’s all
I own my masters, so I'm own damn master
I manage on my own, I don't need no manager
I'm driving the car, fuck being a passenger
We going to Mars,
need the Philly money, we had a link)
(What you want?) (cash money, the jewels, and the car)
(Who you hit?) (everything from the chickens to the stars)
of the car
Cause I’m ‘Space Bound’, you taught me to shoot for the stars
‘Rap God’ was the song that got me on your trail
2013, my life was switched, my first
wack, they all see me
Warm up two like some hot car seats
By the end of this year, I'll buy a TV
I'll be on TV, on a tall HD
I'm living that life and I
ludicrous
And For you funny style guys
I'd advise you to change ya tune
When you dealing with a lunatic
There's a couple of rules we go by
No papers
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