Championships

Oh, let's go
I hear all these new artists and they so, so, so
So you get the numbers, but do you got fans though?
Yeah you got a deal, but do you get bands though?
They get trapped with that advance dough
Then can not leave until they washed and cold
I be slowly build, but I'm better off, whoa
I be really bout this, you can hear it in my soul

Came up slinging tapes, I don't have no quota
50 songs a week, I was possessed and rolling
I been on the grind, like I'm working 9 to 9
12 hours in the stu, while I'm fucking on a dime (ahh, ahh)
And that's real (real)
Taught myself how to cook beats, and write raps with skill
Head shot, pussy, dead op, every song I go in for the kill
I came out wrecking, from the anaesthetic, a monster was built
It's a championship, Paint the City Purple
I don't do the dirt, coz my homie he will murk you
We gon' take this worldwide from my small circle
I am not no Gemini, I'm a Leo, yes I birthed you
Birthed you baby, I'm a leader
Keep my life in balance, like I was a Libra
Baby, she done keep balance on my, my penis
And I went Russell Crowe with the sword, I unleash It

Oh, let's go
I hear all these new artists and they so, so, so
So you get the numbers, but do you got fans though?
Yeah you got a deal, but do you get bands though?
They get trapped with that advance dough
Then can not leave until they washed and cold
I be slowly build, but I'm better off, whoa
I be really bout this, you can hear it in my soul

Ohh, running checks is all we know, ohh
Ohh, double take when we walk in the door, ohh
Ghost and Sowdy for the 6, you gone remember
This that champion shit, this that champion shit
Give a fuck if you with me, bitch you need to know your place
Got five tickets on the door, they for my homies, not your mates
I don't need no bitch, I got my bitch across the states
And she play a lot a games with me, she like to drink and play
You think that because you got a couple streams you on your way
You don't really love this shit, lil boy, get the fuck out my way
I dont give a fuck what you say or what she say bout my pretty face
I just keep it one hunnid, none but real love for the 6K
So put that number on my back, coz I be running laps
Around all these motherfuckers that think they rap
I'm sick and tired of all these bitches talking like they that
We the best the city has ever fucking had

Oh, let's go
I hear all these new artists and they so, so, so
So you get the numbers, but do you got fans though?
Yeah you got a deal, but do you get bands though?
They get trapped with that advance dough
Then can not leave until they washed and cold
I be slowly build, but I'm better off, whoa
I be really bout this, you can hear it in my soul