Lyrics:
budget, got the nerve to call me
Welcome to the business, stand as a witness
Work on your stomach, do physical fitness
I ain't playin, all this African
And now Ladies & Gentlemen, Lupe Fiasco
Filet mignon with my food stamps
Car cosigned by my mama
Medical card from Obama
Background check for
Aye Keem pour me up a little bit
We living good, we feeling good
Yeah and the money good and the bitches bad
I know I talk about bitches a lot but
the life of another girl damaged by the system
These foster homes, I run away and never do miss 'em
See, my hormones just run away and if I can get em back
get dangerous
I don't got no time for that, stay in my lane
I can't even fuck with you
I see what that money do
Got a little bag and forgot who I am
I
Been at loss, suffered loss
Failing lots, this ain't a toss
This was always designed
This was always designed
By power of the mind, power of the mind
and marshmallows out by the fire
World spinning yeah just like my tires
I'm living the dream, never plan to retire
Italiano flow, with a biscotti on the side
Take
don't do the funerals
If they're by my side all intentions are mutual
Put a lotta work in I don't do the cubicles
Coulda made it already we just took
twice
A balance between god and bone
If hell is hot, then heaven's cold
Like a battle of blood, no side wins
Do the best you can just to avoid a life
leavin', so pretty
One day, yeah, I'ma do fashion shows, I'ma walk away, can't fix it, bring it home
Girl by my side, I ain't alone, yeah, she one
ting
Laid up, bent up, screaming aahh
Now the neighbors by the block know our business
But you can't help it
I'm too intensive
Laid up, bent up,
the whip and suck dick fine
And when she do 'em both it's
Like we all gettin' spit-shined
Label advance, I flick mine in my sick time
Oh, you gettin' signed?
the don
Bwoy love chat till him skin get bun
Shot inna him face men di piussy hole run
Run, run
R-r-run it
All I do is pop tags
Count 'em by the hunnid
Know
drop out you best just leave
Like the Hakka we stand side
By side that's why no bro deceased
With words I'm scaring opps
Put thoughts in there
Head until
real, you already know what to do me
Let's go
My nigga got a pint now, I'm pulling up on the west end
Face card digital, Challenger with the FN
chicken
We got it out the trenches, I make her do the dishes
I got a little player in me, you should stop and listen
I got it locked and loaded like a young
This is a public service announcement
Brought to you by the good people over at Dreamville Records
"And so my fellow Americans
Ask not what your
little teddy bear
Hunt you in the jungle why you hiding in the trees
Hello little teddy bear
Looking for some honey now you stung by the bees
Animal way
distance
We know what we got
Tell them bitches mind they business
Girl I'm at the W I call you when I'm finished
Yeah-yeah-yeah
Yeah-yeah-yeah, she
to every person that ever hated and said nigga what do you call this?
I had to get in my Louis bag
We will never stop until we get the converted jag
Calling
Family business?
Now you want to gun down a police captain, what, because he slapped you in the face a little bit
Huh?
What do you think this is,
You's a little nigga fit right up in a 6 by 3
Layin' up like this
Lips sewn shut eyes closed
Niggas walk past the casket damn shorty nice pose
You was
on the street side
I'mma throw it way back to my knee highs
Little nigga, white town hoping he dies
I'mma bring the lights down smoking bee hives
Smoking three,
stopped by no ref
Chasin' that bag 'til I'm all out of breath
You would've thought I was Ye on the West
Louis Vuitton on my bulletproof vest
I got good food
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