Offthedome!
What's up with your homie, he actin' fake, I can't mess with him
It's just me and myself and God, askin' him to forgive me for my sins
I don't really need no friends, pull up in a Jeep, fold deep, oh not you again
Ain't nobody servin' my peace, just me and my bands
Arms get so tired cause I'm countin' up right with my hands
You flexin', you got a model till you find out that that ho' was trans
Flexin', like you got all these cars, but you ain't even got a lamb
And I ain't got one to, but at least I ain't cappin
Every time I'm on a track, I'm never cappin', I'm just rappin
Uh, and if I ever cap, it's just wordplay, but I don't never play
Back then, I was wearin' skinny Jeans, my dad thought I was gay, but that's okay
Uh, yeah, yeah, hold on, hold on, turn my headphones up a little bit, bro
You know what I'm sayin', we gotta spit on this track
Uh, yeah, yeah, okay, and you don't understand what I did as a man
Yeah, I'm from V.A., but I'ma make it to the land
And she doin' way too much, I cut her off just like a branch
If you talkin' to him, my Glock lights you up just like some sand
I got 23 rounds, I'm like LeBron from Cleveland
He doin' all that talkin', really, I don't even believe him
Postin' too much on him, on the gram, my whole gang, will seize him
Uh, I just lost my mind, I been goin' through the slump
Just got DM'd from a hoe, she wanna eat the gang for lunch
But I ain't got no gang, my gang, it's just me and me and me
And I ain't in the streets, but you know how this rappin' stuff gon' be
And I was whippin' up them birdies, poppin' all them thirties
I was on my back, every hoe, they always gonna curve me
But yeah, yeah, I'm back, bought a thirty, shoot you like I'm Curry
Yeah, yeah, yeah
It's just me and myself and God, askin' him to forgive me for my sins
I don't really need no friends, pull up in a Jeep, fold deep, oh not you again
Ain't nobody servin' my peace, just me and my bands
Arms get so tired cause I'm countin' up right with my hands
You flexin', you got a model till you find out that that ho' was trans
Flexin', like you got all these cars, but you ain't even got a lamb
And I ain't got one to, but at least I ain't cappin
Every time I'm on a track, I'm never cappin', I'm just rappin
Uh, and if I ever cap, it's just wordplay, but I don't never play
Back then, I was wearin' skinny Jeans, my dad thought I was gay, but that's okay
Uh, yeah, yeah, hold on, hold on, turn my headphones up a little bit, bro
You know what I'm sayin', we gotta spit on this track
Uh, yeah, yeah, okay, and you don't understand what I did as a man
Yeah, I'm from V.A., but I'ma make it to the land
And she doin' way too much, I cut her off just like a branch
If you talkin' to him, my Glock lights you up just like some sand
I got 23 rounds, I'm like LeBron from Cleveland
He doin' all that talkin', really, I don't even believe him
Postin' too much on him, on the gram, my whole gang, will seize him
Uh, I just lost my mind, I been goin' through the slump
Just got DM'd from a hoe, she wanna eat the gang for lunch
But I ain't got no gang, my gang, it's just me and me and me
And I ain't in the streets, but you know how this rappin' stuff gon' be
And I was whippin' up them birdies, poppin' all them thirties
I was on my back, every hoe, they always gonna curve me
But yeah, yeah, I'm back, bought a thirty, shoot you like I'm Curry
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Credits
Writer(s): Aaronton Bills
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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