Hit the Lottery
Find what you love to do
And let it kill you
Fuck if they feel you
Give em the real you
Let No one tell you
Who you gotta be
You yourself and
You hit the lottery
Imma prodigy
My Mama proud of me
She say whatever you do just don't lie ta me
But imma sight to see
The Pressure heighten me
Depression fighting me
If I'm being a hunnid p
I got a lot on my mind
I just say that I be fine
Give the reasons in my rhymes
You treat 6's like a 9
I got girl in galore
To the point I don't need more
Cuz the numbers that I store
Half the time just get ignored
Give the music out for free
Ain't nobody touching me
They all want the recipe
I just tell them Rest In Peace
I do all this for the fam
Keep my cool like a fan
All my Haters turn to Stans
When they finally take a stand
Guess they finally understand
That Maybe all this was all the plan
When this drop got new demands
I think you lost somebody
Need ta come and get cho mans
Find what you do
And let it kill you
Fuck if they feel you
Give em the real you
Let No one tell you...
Who you gotta be
You yourself and
You hit the lottery
Hit the lottery
Yeah you hit the lottery
Hit the lottery
Yeah you hit the lottery
Hit the lottery
Yeah you hit the lottery
Hit the lottery
Yeah you hit the lottery
With a Winter breeze
Almost had Sommer Ray
Back before her booty known around the USA
She was locked around my arm
Tell dudes to go away
I coulda smashed
But I didn't have a place to stay
I got it right
I'm just out here livin life
I'm not lookin for wife
Just tryna cut like Issa knife
Issa knife
Yea ummmm
Issa knife
I love it when I see it
Imma cut on all the lights
Ayyy
So much pimpin on the mic
Stove be Pippin
I be Mike
He make the beats
I just write
We tryna do this shit for life like
God... damn
So much pimpin on the mic
Stove be Pippin
I be Mike
He make the beats
I just write
We tryna do this shit for life like
God... damn
Find what you do
And let it kill you
Fuck if they feel you
Give em the real you
Let No one tell you...
Who you gotta be
You yourself and
You hit the lottery
Hit the lottery
Yeah you hit the lottery
Hit the lottery
Yeah you hit the lottery
Hit the lottery
Yeah you hit the lottery
Hit the lottery
Yeah you hit the lottery
And let it kill you
Fuck if they feel you
Give em the real you
Let No one tell you
Who you gotta be
You yourself and
You hit the lottery
Imma prodigy
My Mama proud of me
She say whatever you do just don't lie ta me
But imma sight to see
The Pressure heighten me
Depression fighting me
If I'm being a hunnid p
I got a lot on my mind
I just say that I be fine
Give the reasons in my rhymes
You treat 6's like a 9
I got girl in galore
To the point I don't need more
Cuz the numbers that I store
Half the time just get ignored
Give the music out for free
Ain't nobody touching me
They all want the recipe
I just tell them Rest In Peace
I do all this for the fam
Keep my cool like a fan
All my Haters turn to Stans
When they finally take a stand
Guess they finally understand
That Maybe all this was all the plan
When this drop got new demands
I think you lost somebody
Need ta come and get cho mans
Find what you do
And let it kill you
Fuck if they feel you
Give em the real you
Let No one tell you...
Who you gotta be
You yourself and
You hit the lottery
Hit the lottery
Yeah you hit the lottery
Hit the lottery
Yeah you hit the lottery
Hit the lottery
Yeah you hit the lottery
Hit the lottery
Yeah you hit the lottery
With a Winter breeze
Almost had Sommer Ray
Back before her booty known around the USA
She was locked around my arm
Tell dudes to go away
I coulda smashed
But I didn't have a place to stay
I got it right
I'm just out here livin life
I'm not lookin for wife
Just tryna cut like Issa knife
Issa knife
Yea ummmm
Issa knife
I love it when I see it
Imma cut on all the lights
Ayyy
So much pimpin on the mic
Stove be Pippin
I be Mike
He make the beats
I just write
We tryna do this shit for life like
God... damn
So much pimpin on the mic
Stove be Pippin
I be Mike
He make the beats
I just write
We tryna do this shit for life like
God... damn
Find what you do
And let it kill you
Fuck if they feel you
Give em the real you
Let No one tell you...
Who you gotta be
You yourself and
You hit the lottery
Hit the lottery
Yeah you hit the lottery
Hit the lottery
Yeah you hit the lottery
Hit the lottery
Yeah you hit the lottery
Hit the lottery
Yeah you hit the lottery
Credits
Writer(s): Tay White
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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