500°, Pt 1.

Back on the block
I brought the trap to the top
Soon as I rap they gon fock
From crack in the pot
To droppin the dopest 16s
I got what you lackin to drop
Back on the clock
Used to keep racks in a sock
Now I keep that in a Duffy
I pull up abruptly
My pockets on thanksgiving stuffing
I gotta be thankful for something
Cuz I came from nothing
Uppercut straight to the stomach
No one on ones bitch we jumping
Shit ain't no discussion
If I don't see my nigga swinging then fuck him too we don't trust em
Bottles get chucked
In the middle of clubs we get buck
Now my managers yelling the budget
And I'm just like fuck it
They taught me don't fall for nothing
So might as well stand up for something
Uh
Try me and there's repercussions
I'll get your family abducted
Hold em for ransom or something
Oh you must've thought I forgot now you act like it's random or something
Bitch I don't forget
That and I hardly forgive
I don't feel sorry for shit
I took a risk
Now I'm on top and convinced
All you niggas are sorry as shit
I hit the party it's lit
I'm on Bacardi a spliff and a tab and that's hardly a trip
I pop a Molly then sip
I feel like gotti and tip
No I feel like gotti and Mitch
I'm not with the arguin shit
I'm the best ain't no arguing this
In school I was tardy as shit
Now I'm that nigga so just to pull up it'll cost you a brick
Damn



Credits
Writer(s): Jeremiah Argudin
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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