Lyrics:
Like "You ain't Lil' Wayne, you a lame
Man I got to go"
But I did it, and I was on a mission
And little by little a couple
Of 'em would get it
Was
the Duffle Bag Boy number 3 after Tunechi and 2 Chainz
Honda's in the Kors, Quarters in the Saint Laurent
Millions in the Louis Vuittons
Looks like I'm goin'
under my arm
Smoke charm and learn about this world's ?
Revelation the world cooks
I spit gold versus the pearl hooks
The first album made the world
me some shit
About this world
About these girls
And how I dog, my bitch!
My next album was bootleg
Ain even come to the stores
Cause a nigga stole it
hated
world's most hated nigga, nigga
[Verse 2]
You need to quit it, all I got is 6 digits, you got meal tickets
Talk slick in your raps, and pillow talk
real world is, only a dream
I love you cat
I love you too
Jour body moved slow and your brain did too
Your mind was wrecked by drugs
I'm glad I don't
the music in they ears, they would have lost it
The seventh album by a musician they both revered
First time this planet heard it, let's call it a world
to the page is on stage in limited wedlock
And the knots is tied to get more than 2 Chainz just for your dreadlock
And every flame regains 'till your memory
The younger me would probably think I was soft
But I look back at them days and I know I was lost, uh
Living life without a care in the world
So, how could I
said lead never follow
Stand firm never hollow
And when all else fails
Just Be yourself that's the motto
Nobody like me I'm different 2chainz
I'm one in
If it's too tight
Then she slobber all over my shit
Baby give me new brain
Fuckin with my 2 chainz
Now she got me saying that you 'better watch out lil
(chorus)
cll the haters get mad(fuck you)
While i laugh thats so sad
Whatsup with you bro the album i dropped no
Well fuck you cuz i dont need
the comments, it was heartwarmin' n' how much
You made the community, HOG loves you, but try to take it easy
Wouldn't mind gettin' 1 album per 2 years, just keep
today's doe money
No time for your freestyles so roll money
No more whack albums with two joints
No more ballplayin' rappers who shoot ya two points
(No
a reflection of your heart. That words alone could never capture. When I write a Christmas song, it is almost always born from a moment in my life, inspired by
MAN y'all MUST GOT ME CONFUSE I TAKE NIGGAZ BY TWO I BREAK NIGGAZ IN TWO MAN y'all FAKE NIGGAZ IS through I HEAR YA ALBUM IS POO I'm JUS TELLIN DA TRUTH
Pointing fingers at 2 Chainz cuz ya'll ain't bumping
I told these little brothers find your niche
Make a mark in the world and put your foot where you fit
I fuck with me myself and I
Cuz only real ones multiply
Make a come up by my lonely
Ima grind until I die
And you can ask me to my face
I copped 2
better than great, heh heh
Uh in fact, I might just be top five
All-time, or at least top ten, well
Maybe nine minus five, divided by two
Minus the amount
we speak
Double H, and we rather be broke and faithful
Holding to hope as the world turns disgraceful
Spiritual war but we're surrounded by angels
cereal, Toucan Sam I got a Frooty Flow
I ain't never worn 2 Chainz, and I ain't never want a booty ho
Phat as fuck, like I'm Biggie, gotta know that I'm
to clapping, soldier action specialty of style
We made the whole world respect the underground while
Some of y'all niggas talk shit and get mad
Cause we did
albums on his wish list
Love to listen far from reality, love the distance
Yeah in his mind them world was better
Felt his reality was lesser
Expressed in
This is how we do things
And I'll be swinging Epps like I
Was listening to 2 Chainz
A great white shark on top
Of the fucking food chain
The accu-bomb
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