Door Closed

Yeah, I used to rap with the door closed
Used to work at party city, now I tour those
Mm, the flow sick like a sore throat
And we mean business every time, yeah, sport coat

Ooh! It's getting harder to reach me
Everything peachy, yeah, I bring my hair like Kolisi
Yeah, I did it by myself, ain't nobody to teach me
Who you know that make it look this easy, huh

Man it's the music from the sole, type that new grow old
Yeah, the smile went platinum and the wrist went gold
Got a couple good stories that would neva' get told
I don't wanna' die young, but I ain't tryna' get old

Man fuck it, I'm bout' to run up the budget
I love the game like I'm kissin' then hugging but not in public
Homie, it's the one they been waitin' on, damn
I ain't met a rapper yet that don't fuck fans

Yeah, this the one that will make you feel real good
I mean real good
Still friends with the kids in my yearbook
I ain't shaking hand with you unless the deals good

This time it's personal, it's so personal
If I don't fuck wit' you, then you gon' be the first to know
And they mad 'cause they don't rock the city like I do
Every time I step out it's, "Hi, how are you?"

Well I'm good, thanks for asking
I got fans, that's fantastic
These Internet rappers so fake, they're plastic
I just went and took the cards, I was gonna learn magic

And if I did a deal with the devil, I'd come back with his head
They'd been watin' on my drop dawg, I feel like Zed
The old school with the new, I would sell a cassette
Man we just tryna' make music they won't forget, hold up

Yeah, I do's this the most
Y'all already know how this thing goes
Don't make me clear my throat
If y'all drunk in pairs, just make sure they dope

I got the same number since flip phones
Mm, the same friends since the Flintstones
And they like, the higher the fall the higher I climb
I just came to give them goosebumps like R. L. Stine, I'm gone

Mm, real one from my neck to my feet
I get paid the way I'm blessing the beat
I'ma be around forever, yeah, the flows antique
And the album so fire, I don't care if it leaks

I keep my real friends with me seven days of the week
I wake up, write a song, eat dinner, repeat
I ain't giving out my number, you can D.M. or Tweet
You can hit me on the snaps, I don't really do streaks

I heard these rappers getting signed, hoping they're keeping the receipt
'Cause the label 'bout to drop 'em when they hear about me
I'm a little hot-headed and I ain't got too cold feet
Who me? Who he? I ain't never bought a beat

And all these other axe sounded fishing like tofu
Me, I like sofu, lil' bit of whole food
My favorite mix drink is tequila and pro to's
And God might forgive you dawg, but I don't do redos, it's showtime

(You gotta push it to me) damn, I thought he left work early
(You got to call her outta line, man just roll it to me) hey, what's up, man?
(Yoh! I'ma just meet you there)