Made It (Intro)

Get the fuck up out my way
Get the fuck up out my face
Feel like I'm on numbered days
Couldn't run away from pain
All the lies I've been betrayed
Couldn't sleep it's on my brain
God I gotta get through this
Show 'em how I'm all legit
Always been a misfit
But they all just counterfeit
Fake ass Hundreds, what a bitch
See I'm posted with the shits

I just think I'm tired of fucking with all the basic
Thinking this shit funny how some of y'all end up famous
Chasing ya dream, top dollar spent on a placement
Say you the King and have to tell us how you made it
We've been catching on, we see you posted in the basement
Running up those bands, but lost the car you couldn't pay it
That's why I'm about to do exactly everything I'm saying
Praying for my downfall, please don't tell me how I made it

What the fuck you think I'm playin'?
Fuck do you think I'm sayin?
I Pull out this green beam I'on even have to aim
Reaching for the stars, I ain't looking for the fame
Money stole my heart, just a student of the game
Young man flexing all those bands
Where the fans now?
Postin' everything it's a wonder how you stand out
Tryna make a name, tryna get that big clout
I Was tryna do it on my own fuck a hand out, yeah
Big racks, big stacks, tell me what you see
New Rick, new Raf, got the Uzi dreams
I'ma be my own boss, fuck the industry
Get me off of 24th, get me out these streets
Done with all the shooting sprees
Duke it out, just you and me
Talk a lotta shit, but if I don't, you ain't that cool with me
If I lose my route, iced out, would you let me freeze?
Never have a doubt, Mike Trout, swinging to decease
Take me overseas, flying out of New Orleans
Y'all keep shorting me, I show 'em, do this shit like Brees
If You on the team, no striking out, no 1-2-3
Need you Major League, A wild thing, no Charlie Scheen
But most of y'all to conceded
Type of mother fucker say some shit then delete it
Need some real ones, twelfth round ain't leaving
'Cause I ain't backing down, swear I'm never retreating
It's got me down bad
Wishing I could fly away and never land
Just a lost one, need my Neverland
Wait till I get up, my show a hundred grand
Only hundreds in these bags
Thought I saw you flexing in that jag
Tell me why I herd you had to pull up in the cab
Knew it from the start, pussy boy would never last

I just think I'm tired of fucking with all the basic
Thinking this shit funny how some of y'all end up famous
Chasing ya dream, top dollar spent on a placement
Say you the King and have to tell us how you made it
We've been catching on, we see you posted in the basement
Running up those bands, but lost the car you couldn't pay it
That's why I'm about to do exactly everything I'm saying
Praying for my downfall, please don't tell me how I made it



Credits
Writer(s): James Ushman Ii
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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