Ego, Pt. 2
Living like this man
It got me going crazy
All these other rappers
Never phase me
Bitches didn't fuck with my shit back then
Now they out here trying to call me baby
I say fuck my ex girl
Right where I stand
Out here trying to
Say you're a fan
I'm on the come up and shit
But I still body bag
All these niggas
That be claiming
That they kings bitch I'm back
And we running this shit
Man it's me and my clique
We taking the game
Like we've been taking your bitch
I don't beg no one for help
But these hip hop niggas
Only on the damn come up
Cuz' they all be riding dick
But I swear to god I'll make it
On my own
The music I make
Got me fucking with your mental
Fuck the depression
It got me spiralling alone
All the time I spend at home
Feeling low
Fast forward, 23
Thinking about the shit I went through
Sitting in hotels in Paris
With my page and pencil
Don't take shit gentle
Fuck your opinion
Leave the booth
Keeping shit suspenseful
Yeah, Izzy Lucid
Hop up in the booth
Thinking my flow is presidential
Praise to the most with the
Word and instrumentals
How high
Am I
Growth is exponential
Laughing at the dreams
Busy sleeping on potential
From window shopping
To champagne at the doors
Walking in the room
To people waving from the floors
Now I'm waiting on the calls
For me to be at the awards
Hear my name in the wind
Coming from the corridor
You lames better square up
Need to get your weight up
Cheddar only speaks
To the niggas with their ears up
Rat packing to carrot stacking
Nigga, Keep up
Gate crashing to late fashion
You need to wake up
Sitting on a billi before I'm turning 24
25, all the homies never needing anymore
26, three stories, steady chilling on the shore
Looking back at this moment
While the Ace is being poured
It's about time
That a nigga celebrate it, wait
Pour a couple more so
Everybody has a dinner plate
Play the hand I'm dealt
And turn it to a golden slate
So fuck you, fuck her
And everybody with some shit to say
KluR
It got me going crazy
All these other rappers
Never phase me
Bitches didn't fuck with my shit back then
Now they out here trying to call me baby
I say fuck my ex girl
Right where I stand
Out here trying to
Say you're a fan
I'm on the come up and shit
But I still body bag
All these niggas
That be claiming
That they kings bitch I'm back
And we running this shit
Man it's me and my clique
We taking the game
Like we've been taking your bitch
I don't beg no one for help
But these hip hop niggas
Only on the damn come up
Cuz' they all be riding dick
But I swear to god I'll make it
On my own
The music I make
Got me fucking with your mental
Fuck the depression
It got me spiralling alone
All the time I spend at home
Feeling low
Fast forward, 23
Thinking about the shit I went through
Sitting in hotels in Paris
With my page and pencil
Don't take shit gentle
Fuck your opinion
Leave the booth
Keeping shit suspenseful
Yeah, Izzy Lucid
Hop up in the booth
Thinking my flow is presidential
Praise to the most with the
Word and instrumentals
How high
Am I
Growth is exponential
Laughing at the dreams
Busy sleeping on potential
From window shopping
To champagne at the doors
Walking in the room
To people waving from the floors
Now I'm waiting on the calls
For me to be at the awards
Hear my name in the wind
Coming from the corridor
You lames better square up
Need to get your weight up
Cheddar only speaks
To the niggas with their ears up
Rat packing to carrot stacking
Nigga, Keep up
Gate crashing to late fashion
You need to wake up
Sitting on a billi before I'm turning 24
25, all the homies never needing anymore
26, three stories, steady chilling on the shore
Looking back at this moment
While the Ace is being poured
It's about time
That a nigga celebrate it, wait
Pour a couple more so
Everybody has a dinner plate
Play the hand I'm dealt
And turn it to a golden slate
So fuck you, fuck her
And everybody with some shit to say
KluR
Credits
Writer(s): Aston Gani
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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