Goin' Up!
Penny pinching it
Makin' sure my bases loaded, bro don't trip again
Dojo living, no Master Sensei
Taught myself this pro conditioning
Don't know how to make dough, then homie you'll fold
This game not made for participants
I'm envisioning
What makes this clock tick and tick and tick again
Life keep moving forward, but "where's the reward?" they say
Muhfucka we livin' it!
Strife keep people from scoring, but if you ignore it, then the shit go up in increments
Might get the liquor and pour it, light a Newport, then I discover what my feelings is
People been feeling and seeing the vision since Lemons Linens, bitch you know how I'm dealing it
Rose to the ceiling, Lone know how to make dough from his own shows, that's serious
Broke and delirious, mold to the .44, but I won't fold, no giving in
Nobody hearing him yet, but it's only a matter of time before everyone feeling it
Everyone mirror the skill, but who really gon' go home and make sure these bitches all Witness it
Bitch Ima finish him, final attack always super effective
I'm finna get reckless, protection won't do shit
I move wit the steppers, it's effortless when they diminishing
He looking thirsty, replenish him
Then we go duck off the premises
Promise the premise of this story is to make glory by fuckin the game up wit sentences
Shoot out the stars bitch
She boot up when I'm in the car
Lil shawty a star bitch
Breaking down packs of this weed to put in a cigar
We moving the bar bitch
You making it seem like you don't even move far
We shoot for the stars bitch
Making sure my plate clean, the grease and all
Shoot out the stars bitch
She boot up when I'm in the car
Lil shawty a star bitch
Breaking down packs of this weed to put in a cigar
We moving the bar bitch
You making it seem like you don't even move far
We shoot for the stars bitch
Making sure my plate clean, the grease and all
Makin' sure my bases loaded, bro don't trip again
Dojo living, no Master Sensei
Taught myself this pro conditioning
Don't know how to make dough, then homie you'll fold
This game not made for participants
I'm envisioning
What makes this clock tick and tick and tick again
Life keep moving forward, but "where's the reward?" they say
Muhfucka we livin' it!
Strife keep people from scoring, but if you ignore it, then the shit go up in increments
Might get the liquor and pour it, light a Newport, then I discover what my feelings is
People been feeling and seeing the vision since Lemons Linens, bitch you know how I'm dealing it
Rose to the ceiling, Lone know how to make dough from his own shows, that's serious
Broke and delirious, mold to the .44, but I won't fold, no giving in
Nobody hearing him yet, but it's only a matter of time before everyone feeling it
Everyone mirror the skill, but who really gon' go home and make sure these bitches all Witness it
Bitch Ima finish him, final attack always super effective
I'm finna get reckless, protection won't do shit
I move wit the steppers, it's effortless when they diminishing
He looking thirsty, replenish him
Then we go duck off the premises
Promise the premise of this story is to make glory by fuckin the game up wit sentences
Shoot out the stars bitch
She boot up when I'm in the car
Lil shawty a star bitch
Breaking down packs of this weed to put in a cigar
We moving the bar bitch
You making it seem like you don't even move far
We shoot for the stars bitch
Making sure my plate clean, the grease and all
Shoot out the stars bitch
She boot up when I'm in the car
Lil shawty a star bitch
Breaking down packs of this weed to put in a cigar
We moving the bar bitch
You making it seem like you don't even move far
We shoot for the stars bitch
Making sure my plate clean, the grease and all
Credits
Writer(s): Lync Lone
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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