Lost Files (feat. Yvng King) [Freestyle]

Ooh, aight, let me see if I could do this in one take
Oh, nah, you got me soundin' good too, aight, ayy, uh
Aight, now when I'm done, you could pass me that, aight?
Aight, aight, uh, ayy

Lost files conceals the real me
Conceals the real tea, concernin' the real dreams, uh
Play the beat, I'ma feast on each piece
Mo' problems will arise, I ain't ever takin' a knee, facts
I know pressure makes a diamond
With all this weight on my shoulders, I'm still risin'
Heavier than boulders, somehow I'm still climbin'
Adapt and adjust, I understood the assignment
Top of my class, bringin' facts, so they copy
In my God I trust, yeah, that's word to Kami
Self love first, yeah, sorry, not sorry
Bullshit at the door, leave the nonsense behind me, uh, listen
I be grindin', tryna right my wrongs
But it's funny, the same wrongs helped recite this song
Pree the logic, spittin' growin' pains to have it all fade away
I'm under pressure but this soul food gonna ease the pain
Gang related, isolated, then buried alive
I hope you never bounce on babies while seein' 'em cry
I'm progressin' through the pressure, it won't hurt to try
Gotta kick to you, uh, uh
Rappin' to just rap, tell me, what happened to that?
Nowadays, people barely livin' the bars they rap
Yeah, what's understood ain't gotta be explained
Stayin' strong, medicate, dedicate, educate, don't hesitate
Use my gift to create, I'm in my element
Perfectin' the craft, take a look at the penmanship
Guilty pleasure is killin' beats for a settlement
I'm a king, let the bars be my testament (Aight, aight, yo, yo)

Yvng King on the track
Real niggas on the beat, real niggas run it back
Real bars on the scheme, fake niggas tryna jack
I could beat 'em doin' laps around the beat, all gas
Double cups, double up, now we double run it up
Write the play while niggas schemin' but I still won't fumble up
I got Prada with designer, so this drip ain't humbled up
Finger bitches with my Rollie, so my diamond's shinin' up, whoa
Real steady, two .40s, all deadly
Already off Henny, all demons, all ready
Money stacks, all plenty, new drip, all Fendi
Treat these bitches like a lotto, get the party all trendy, uh
All day, keep it ready, one way
Fuck the beef, stack the money, split my niggas, two paid
I could stack like $4K, make it back in three days
I could bag like ten bitches, fuck 'em all in four ways, gang

Yo, we ate that shit, bro
Deadass, like (You know we ate that shit, bro)
(I don't know what they want from me
It's like the more money we come across, the more problems we see)
Nah, we really shitted though, I'm not gon' lie (Yo)
Nah, we off this, though, we outta here



Credits
Writer(s): Paul Medford
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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