Nothing Less
[Verse 1: Trademark Da Skydiver]
Official's the only way I ever keep it
I'll let ya in on a little secret, sit back and peep it
Me and my nigga eatin'
Tracks back to back every day we dropping heaters while these suckers sleepin'
Blogs posting up bullshit I know the reason
I ain't hating either, get ya money people
Saying it's outta hand
Damn the game done gone bland so we came up with a plan to sprinkle some seasoning
The end result is we all at the table feasting
So wash it down with some Cliqo and commence to chiefing
Lost myself in the fog trying to find the meaning
Always knew I'd make it here one day believe me
Go so hard on the track, I make it look easy
Mean mug when I spit cause I fucking mean it
No Tussin, constant puffing got me slightly leaning
Haters pray we fall off but tell 'em keep dreaming
[Verse 2: Young Roddy]
Without a second to waste sport
That money staring at me in my face
Shit I used to dream of this cream but now I got a taste
Of the good life
On bad nights they told me pump my brakes
Plus I blaze so I gotta leave this place
Get away for a while cause
Where I'm coming from them niggas foul
But I ain't crying cause I done did some shit in my lifetime
That I ain't proud of
Just trying to sip away that pain that I kept bottled up
Or either smoke away that stress so twist that fire up
I know I'm making money when my safe ain't wide enough
I know my buzz buzzing when my exes style me up
Now do they love me or the way my money piling up?
I never know so real talk I take it slow
Cause I know a couple bitches who play, they cutthroat
Along with a couple niggas who labeled John Does
Relax and take notes while I hit this fire smoke
Reporting live from my southcoast boy
Official's the only way I ever keep it
I'll let ya in on a little secret, sit back and peep it
Me and my nigga eatin'
Tracks back to back every day we dropping heaters while these suckers sleepin'
Blogs posting up bullshit I know the reason
I ain't hating either, get ya money people
Saying it's outta hand
Damn the game done gone bland so we came up with a plan to sprinkle some seasoning
The end result is we all at the table feasting
So wash it down with some Cliqo and commence to chiefing
Lost myself in the fog trying to find the meaning
Always knew I'd make it here one day believe me
Go so hard on the track, I make it look easy
Mean mug when I spit cause I fucking mean it
No Tussin, constant puffing got me slightly leaning
Haters pray we fall off but tell 'em keep dreaming
[Verse 2: Young Roddy]
Without a second to waste sport
That money staring at me in my face
Shit I used to dream of this cream but now I got a taste
Of the good life
On bad nights they told me pump my brakes
Plus I blaze so I gotta leave this place
Get away for a while cause
Where I'm coming from them niggas foul
But I ain't crying cause I done did some shit in my lifetime
That I ain't proud of
Just trying to sip away that pain that I kept bottled up
Or either smoke away that stress so twist that fire up
I know I'm making money when my safe ain't wide enough
I know my buzz buzzing when my exes style me up
Now do they love me or the way my money piling up?
I never know so real talk I take it slow
Cause I know a couple bitches who play, they cutthroat
Along with a couple niggas who labeled John Does
Relax and take notes while I hit this fire smoke
Reporting live from my southcoast boy
Credits
Writer(s): Alex Washington, David Garcia Garci-nuno, Roderick E. Brisco
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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