CONCRETE.
Yea, Yea, Yea
Who tryna' pass on me
I could never die, put a stack on me
With the shoulder straps, only bag on me
Fuck that shit I lied, get a bag on ou what you need
Speaking on my name til' the facts got free
Bitter taste in they mouth, they was that salty
I don't play, I don't pout, boy I lunge on these beats
I don't pat, my stats, boy my stats that concrete
Boy my stats that concrete
I got to eat, getting a belly, I see it poking
I got a boo, count her own money, she got her own shit
She walk around, all of that ass, hard to keep focus
I walk around, none of my cash, get hard to fold it (Wow, wow wow)
They didn't peep, shit I envision, I'm in the clear view
They didn't match, none of my drive, they in the rear view
Look to the side, looking behind, I'm no where near you
It's lonely at the top til' you feel that top, top tier
Boy I really wonder how the fuck I got here
Getting over looked in a pack of my peers
Now I got to show 'em what I'm seeing in the mirror
There ain't one crack boy that muhfukka clear
Needed hope, on ghost, now a muhfukka leer
Really tried to lay back, really tried to keep it fair
Now you riding a beat I send a muhfukkin' fair
I need a number at the top of every letter like dear
I was tired of the back now I'm shifting the gears
Had to learn a little from the shit that I'd hear
Like a quick rise give the fall a little fear
Leave you light headed no great idea but
This shit ain't for the faint hearted
Crazed artist, watch the fucking paint harden
Take a breath, step back, James Harden
I ride, hard drive, if a lane guarded
Who tryna' pass on me
I could never die, put a stack on me
With the shoulder straps, only bag on me
Fuck that shit I lied, get a bag on ou what you need
Speaking on my name til' the facts got free
Bitter taste in they mouth, they was that salty
I don't play, I don't pout, boy I lunge on these beats
I don't pat, my stats, boy my stats that concrete
Boy my stats that concrete
Who tryna' pass on me
I could never die, put a stack on me
With the shoulder straps, only bag on me
Fuck that shit I lied, get a bag on ou what you need
Speaking on my name til' the facts got free
Bitter taste in they mouth, they was that salty
I don't play, I don't pout, boy I lunge on these beats
I don't pat, my stats, boy my stats that concrete
Boy my stats that concrete
I got to eat, getting a belly, I see it poking
I got a boo, count her own money, she got her own shit
She walk around, all of that ass, hard to keep focus
I walk around, none of my cash, get hard to fold it (Wow, wow wow)
They didn't peep, shit I envision, I'm in the clear view
They didn't match, none of my drive, they in the rear view
Look to the side, looking behind, I'm no where near you
It's lonely at the top til' you feel that top, top tier
Boy I really wonder how the fuck I got here
Getting over looked in a pack of my peers
Now I got to show 'em what I'm seeing in the mirror
There ain't one crack boy that muhfukka clear
Needed hope, on ghost, now a muhfukka leer
Really tried to lay back, really tried to keep it fair
Now you riding a beat I send a muhfukkin' fair
I need a number at the top of every letter like dear
I was tired of the back now I'm shifting the gears
Had to learn a little from the shit that I'd hear
Like a quick rise give the fall a little fear
Leave you light headed no great idea but
This shit ain't for the faint hearted
Crazed artist, watch the fucking paint harden
Take a breath, step back, James Harden
I ride, hard drive, if a lane guarded
Who tryna' pass on me
I could never die, put a stack on me
With the shoulder straps, only bag on me
Fuck that shit I lied, get a bag on ou what you need
Speaking on my name til' the facts got free
Bitter taste in they mouth, they was that salty
I don't play, I don't pout, boy I lunge on these beats
I don't pat, my stats, boy my stats that concrete
Boy my stats that concrete
Credits
Writer(s): Tobi. Tobi.
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
© 2024 All rights reserved. Rockol.com S.r.l. Website image policy
Rockol
- Rockol only uses images and photos made available for promotional purposes (“for press use”) by record companies, artist managements and p.r. agencies.
- Said images are used to exert a right to report and a finality of the criticism, in a degraded mode compliant to copyright laws, and exclusively inclosed in our own informative content.
- Only non-exclusive images addressed to newspaper use and, in general, copyright-free are accepted.
- Live photos are published when licensed by photographers whose copyright is quoted.
- Rockol is available to pay the right holder a fair fee should a published image’s author be unknown at the time of publishing.
Feedback
Please immediately report the presence of images possibly not compliant with the above cases so as to quickly verify an improper use: where confirmed, we would immediately proceed to their removal.