Tact 1

Bars tailor made
Come and get your favorites made
We serve it everyday Sunday chick-fil-a
This a elevator
Yeah You gotta find your way
Ain't no celebrations
Until we get we came for
Hip hip hooray
Oops lucky that we pray
Socks coming with the stains
Out the mud Yesterday
Bossie wipe me Down today
Truthfully I ain't trying to stay
In the box that You create
Penthouse Won't feel the same
Knowing they already Came
Stuck up in my artist Ways
1 of 1
I am him
Son of son
Finding him
A gem a sum
Find me in a gym Or something
Working out these 16s
Like what a 8 pack mean
Still got my black dad dreams

Putting wings on these black queens
First flight
I done seen what these bullets mean
We alright
Pouring in To What's filling me
Ain't no spite
Top floor now we outta reach
Momma we alright
Putting wings on these black queens
First flight
I done seen what these bullets mean
We alright
Pouring in To What's filling me
Ain't no spite
Top floor now we outta reach
Momma we alright
Yeah momma we alright



Credits
Writer(s): Stephen Mann
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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