Fashion Major

I ain't no fashion major but my fashion major
How you gon' talk down, I'm the one that made ya
New years resolution, go and get the paper
Fuck a hater, 'bout to go get the cover of Fader
You can't flex on a flexer, that's like
Tryna finesse a finesser, that's like
Tryna out dress the dresser, that's like
Having now but telling me I got next up

Slackers, swagger jackers, none of that
If you not authentic, stay your ass where you at
If you go and run and tell my next move, you a rat
Living with your aunt, pull up to your tia, it's a wrap
Ain't no need for a mask, you gon' leave in a cast
It could've been a casket, you lucky we ain't spaz
Coming with a case, if I was you I wouldn't do that
Baby I been wavy, no durag

I think that I'm flawless and I try to be modest
But I come off as cocky when I try to be honest
And my bitch a goddess, got her dripping like a faucet
And yes I'm the hottest out the pack like a pocket
In a rush like August, make it sound so melodic
Delivering as promised, prophecies of a prophet
I'm more of a connoisseur, you're more of a novice
I'm more of a 16, you're more of a sonnet

At 16, I realized my gift
At 20, I realized if I don't use it
I'ma regret everything I ever did
Life of misery, no different that a bid
So I started going harder, harder than I ever went
Started writing more songs and bars than I ever spit
Lot of doubters and naysayers but that comes with this
A lot of fake love around me, counterfeit

I might be new but believe I'm not stupid'
Aware of my dreams and that's why I dream lucid
Gifted with a way of words, they told me to use it
'Bout to see what my potential looking like in music
This shit ain't easy though, something that you gotta know
Lotta competition, everybody tryna go pro
Lotta haters, lotta foes, lotta bitches, lotta hoes
Lotta ups and downs like a roller coaster go, so

If it ain't working out
Please don't sweat it
Cause if you ain't working out
Then why the f*ck is you sweating
We gon' make adjustments, watch for the settings
Changing up on me, you should know that's a dead end
Oh they tryna come for me? Hmm... can't be
Your mans toting like he a shooter but he a Camby
She wanna 6-9 me, I'm not carl landry
By the second round she was running like a stampede
Damn b
Can't be