Problems
I feel like James Wiseman, Jameis Winston
How you say you're working? You're in the same position
I feel like Blake Griffin, leave the rim shaking
5 Heartbeats, fighting temptations
Rolling joints now, I'm used to backwoods
They say I'll make it out the hood cuz I rap good
I'm boutta fly to Cali, wish my dad could
Take a bunch of pics, and update him through the trip
I'm making money off the gram, fuck a brick
He threw a stone and hid is hand, what a bitch
I'm at the crib by myself getting drunk as shit
I think I gotta problem, I got a bunch of problems
I'm just a nigga from the north side, looking for some court time
I might go to Courtown, think it'd be fourth time
Trip down to Maryland, pull up in the Porsche ride
Fam looking horrified
What'd he do to get that? I ain't been there for a while
Last time they seen me, prolly put on 40 pounds
My cousin 40 something, with a .40 cal
The corner store, is a corner stone, let's explore the town
How far are you willing to go?
They hit my pops with a 2x4, and left him on the side road
Blood leaking down from his skull
Boutta unload, watch how the time will unfold
Motivation is the fire, that's what powers the soul
I let my headphones blast just as loud as it goes
Powder her nose, my neck look showered in gold
I'm like Shaq with his back to the basket looking down in the post
I feel like James Wiseman, Jameis Winston
How you say you workin, you in the same position
I feel like Blake Griffin, leave the rim shaking
5 Heartbeats, fighting temptations
Rolling joints now, I'm used to backwoods
They say I'll make it out the hood cuz I rap good
I'm boutta fly to Cali, wish my dad could
Take a bunch of pics, and update him through the trip
I'm making money off the gram, fuck a brick
He threw a stone and hid is hand, what a bitch
I'm at the crib by myself getting drunk as shit
I think I gotta problem, I got a bunch of problems
How you say you're working? You're in the same position
I feel like Blake Griffin, leave the rim shaking
5 Heartbeats, fighting temptations
Rolling joints now, I'm used to backwoods
They say I'll make it out the hood cuz I rap good
I'm boutta fly to Cali, wish my dad could
Take a bunch of pics, and update him through the trip
I'm making money off the gram, fuck a brick
He threw a stone and hid is hand, what a bitch
I'm at the crib by myself getting drunk as shit
I think I gotta problem, I got a bunch of problems
I'm just a nigga from the north side, looking for some court time
I might go to Courtown, think it'd be fourth time
Trip down to Maryland, pull up in the Porsche ride
Fam looking horrified
What'd he do to get that? I ain't been there for a while
Last time they seen me, prolly put on 40 pounds
My cousin 40 something, with a .40 cal
The corner store, is a corner stone, let's explore the town
How far are you willing to go?
They hit my pops with a 2x4, and left him on the side road
Blood leaking down from his skull
Boutta unload, watch how the time will unfold
Motivation is the fire, that's what powers the soul
I let my headphones blast just as loud as it goes
Powder her nose, my neck look showered in gold
I'm like Shaq with his back to the basket looking down in the post
I feel like James Wiseman, Jameis Winston
How you say you workin, you in the same position
I feel like Blake Griffin, leave the rim shaking
5 Heartbeats, fighting temptations
Rolling joints now, I'm used to backwoods
They say I'll make it out the hood cuz I rap good
I'm boutta fly to Cali, wish my dad could
Take a bunch of pics, and update him through the trip
I'm making money off the gram, fuck a brick
He threw a stone and hid is hand, what a bitch
I'm at the crib by myself getting drunk as shit
I think I gotta problem, I got a bunch of problems
Credits
Writer(s): Anthony Henry
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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