Betta Miss Me

Was homeless, but bounced back like aye
With more ambition than 5 Wale's
No offense to Ricky, but I'ma pop rose (Rozay)
Get it all in ya, all on ya mouth, 'Yonce
My Jesus piece, Ali Bomaye
I am The-Game, Ali Bomaye
And you ain't got the answers Kanye
Was all good, all good
Then pops left and that shit got real
Government cheese and bread got grilled
Mom was ill, she couldn't work that shift
Now my momma stay wit her momma
Can't subtract shit, can't make no difference
But fuck all that, just remember this sentence
That bullshit, better miss me with it
Had the red coupe, make the roof get missing
Lost the crib, I'm in the coupe just sitting
I'm 6'6, how the fuck am I fitting
Parked behind Burger King like isn't
This some shit, I ain't have no back window
Just a pack of cookies from Dollar Tree, figured
It'll last me longer than a Mickey D's dinner
It's all good, all good
My uncle died and that shit got real
Now all my cousins' my kids, that's real
Hit Ol' School to tattoo that tear
Called my momma, she called her momma
She calling me, like you better pray
So all I know, with that fake shit, breh
Missing me, you better be
Cause this trill shit

Had a bad bitch, from the west side
Play Dipset, she roll her eyes
Guess I'm stuck wit Ty Dolla Sign
I said damn, at least play some old Three Six
UGK, now what you know about this
Put Jeezy on, what you know about this
T.I.P., See when I play that shit
Girl it's all good, all good
We bought some liquor, that shit got real
I told her my cuz' had like 15 bricks
But she got knocked for like 15 years
She called her momma, who called my momma
Yesterday they reduced her sentence
When she get out, she going right back in it
So that bullshit, you better miss her with it
Used to visit Dad for the summer
But what I ain't tell my mother
Is I ain't see my dad the whole summer
I was 15 when I got caught
By a crooked cop, he stole my gwop
He booked me, intent to sell
Next day I'm back up in school like... Hey
It's all good, all good
My son was born and that shit got real
Ma-in-law ain't let me in that crib
Baby-mamma liked to have that fit
She called her momma who called my momma
She calling me like you better pray
So all I know with that fake shit, breh
Missing me you better be
Cause this trill shit

Miss me with it on Monday
Miss me with on Tuesday
Miss me with it on Wednesday
Miss me with it on Thursday
things weren't the same...
Miss me with it on Friday
Miss me with it on Saturday
Miss me with it on Sunday
Now what are we gonna do

This one time, fuck punchlines
Expelled, drug charge, I lucked up
Alternative school, they got me fucked up
So I said fuck that, my math book slammed shut
I stood up, 'I'ma be famous one day'
My teacher gave me the 'Is he that dumb' face
Then made me write a whole fucking essay
On how I'll never make it, and present it the same day
It's all good, all good
Now I'm red carpet, this can't be real
Can't believe I turned down that deal
But Emeril, ooh I'ma make that Mil' (Meal)
Then call my momma, she call her momma
Remember that crib, fuck, let's get it
But fuck this song, just remember this sentence
That bullshit, better miss me with it