The Door

Throwing caution to the wind
Where the fuck do I begin?
How the hell you get it in?
I don't think it's in your nature
I went from minor to major
This shit is easy, it's a lay-up
Clyde Drexler ambidextrous
I'm in the game, you a pedestrian
Clandestine with your weak attempts
It's not a hit, you ain't make a dent
Man these niggas sounding kinda spent
I'm a connoisseur of the finer shit
I'm a make a mill' off the rhyming shit
Came a long way from top ramen
Bitch, you went the wrong way down a dead-end
I took the back steps but never back-peddled
Had to hit the clutch and make the gear switch
Driving reckless bitch, that's the Twisted Metal
Dark as Darth Vader I am, came up from playing my hand
I couldn't stay in the stands
I had to jump off the porch and then climb up a mountain like fuck it,
lets see where I land
'Cause I wanted me a Benz, Benz, Benz, Benz
The type where the rims spin, spin, spin
Sitting on twenty twin, twin, twin
The engine go [whatever the sound is in text] ah
Love it or hate it
I know my worth, I appraised it
Diamond in the rough, I bet I call your bluff
I bet I bet it back, you better double up, uh

Big shot, hit that
I'ma send a message, did ya get that?
Your bitch, I'm in that
And she gon' let me fuck for a knickknack
New bag, jet lag
And she gon' give me top like a durag
Who dat? Who dat?
Someone at the door, nigga who dat?

I been seen it all, yes lawd
I done got it on my own
I don't want the spot
Kings get they heads cut off
Take a minute, ride with me
Nigga, you can feel the energy inside of me
I'm feeling like a living legend, living prosperous
I'm an underrated legend like Prodigy bitch
Flow nausea sick
Play that shit, ad nauseam
Stillmatic like Nas and them
Shit is hot as Fort Lauderdale
It Was Written, It Ain't Hard to Tell
Yeah I got it all for sale
Don't believe, come see yourself
Take it easy, nigga what?
That's that shit a nigga never done
Then y'all wonder why you never won
Number two, you never number one
Nigga you the runner up, but your run is up
Had a chance to score but you fumbled up
Yeah the world was yours but you fucked it up
Need a parachute, y'all falling off huh

Big shot, hit that
I'ma send a message, did ya get that?
Your bitch, I'm in that
And she gon' let me fuck for a knickknack
New bag, jet lag
And she gon' give me top like a durag
Who dat? Who dat?
Someone at the door, nigga who dat?



Credits
Writer(s): Dwayne Abernathy Jr., Brandon Michael Perry, Courtney Deviral Blevins
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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