Mandevillain

Yeah, tell you somethin', this ain't luck, I'm bonafide
You shoot it down, oh well, at least a nigga tried
Two fingers up, we push that bullshit to the side
This ain't enough, we goin' up, you tryna slide? (Tryna slide?)
Tell you somethin', this ain't luck, I'm bonafide (bonafide)
You shoot it down, oh well, at least a nigga tried (ra-ra-ra, a nigga tried)
Two fingers up, we push that bullshit to the side (to the side)
This ain't enough, we goin' up, you tryna slide? (Ra-ra-ra, slide, slide)

All my nigga 'bout it, talkin' 'bout we catchin' vibes (uh)
Last time I checked, I'm earnin' millions off of mines (uh)
Sell my soul to someone in this world, I rather starve (uh)

Armani suit, lit cigar, Bottega boot
The smells of gasoline'll fill the booth, future-proof (future-proof)
Marni suit, lit cigar, Bottega boot
The smells of gasoline'll fill the booth (future-proof)

Okay, I'm bout to link my niggas, and they know me, man, I never care
But they got the good speakers, and you can smoke in here
You play your politicians, you be snitchin' like you Paul Revere
Man, I love this rappin' shit, I hope you never disappear (okay)
I was still a kid, I pulled my first rhymes from thin air (uh)
Skinny nigga, but believe that Biggie really brought me here (uh-huh)
Inspired by The Foo Fighters, if you quit, then you tired
And you liars could get a whole drum, and a new wire (rrr)

Blood in my hands
The wrong nigga to get caught in a jam with
I don't understand how we can defeat this famine, too many starvin'
Untap these ruthless artists, dispelled these Reaganomics
Too much champagne make you vomit (ooh)
I'm at the peak, funny rappers at my feet
Only accurate if you can say you mastered what you teach (let's go)
How I break bread, make sure them killers always stay fed

Patience, brought me up the ladder where we shake hands (got damn)
Easy money foreign, touchin' fake fans (got damn)
Sit on dirty money, you won't stand a chance in my lane
The octane, blood in my hands mostly
Only became associates when they hesitated to toast me (yeah)
They movin' closely, they motives salty
The game encroached me, stand on my own feet (yeah)
The angels watchin' over
I was designed to make a meal but now my cup is spillin' over, and over, and over

Armani suit, lit cigar, Bottega boot
The smells of gasoline'll fill the booth, future-proof (future-proof)
Marni suit, lit cigar, Bottega boot
The smells of gasoline'll fill the booth (future-proof)
(You've never been here before)