Numbers On the Boards
Not wearing two chains but I keep it true
Real niggas wit me, my real bitches too
Out for trump change, yea I gotta eat
Patience is a virtue something flawless gon' come to me
I'm rollin O.G. blow it out the roof
She eyeballin me, mackin hoes like CPUs
She know me, might saw me on TV too
Thuggin wit the homies tryna make it kickin' ghetto tunes
Out the gutter bitch, what your focus is?
Small time hustlin, now it's time to do it big
I want it all, fancy cars yea the newest shit
Came a long way ridin round on my Buick shit
Went by any means, who said it best?
Kobe Bryant mind state I'm shootin til I'm accurate
Can't stop it til I'm a couple million strong
Grinding to put my loved ones on in my zone
Not your average rapper, step inside my universe
Far from you average rappers, nothin is by the book
Welcome to Hell's Kitchen, show you just how to cook
This city is full of bishops, putting pressure on rooks
My vision so panoramic my brain on another planet
To reach it you gon' need more than a neurologist
Honestly to be honest, far from lyrical
Gifted with miracles when I rhyme it's a ritual
Spit it it hit you spiritual nigga
I'm planning my day to triumph
All I got is my word and my sword, choppa and bible
I pray, pray a nigga never get in my way
Cause that'll be the moment he make his bed and just lay
And now you see me shinin' perfect timing I'm a Top Dawg
I love this feelin' make a killing when I'm on tour
All my life surrounded by negativity, jealousy
Through the mist of it all is what they tellin' me
(Muthafuckas can't rhyme no more, bout crimes no more)
When I was in the streets I put them numbers on the board
I robbed two niggas, put they chains in the pawn shop
Got 500 spent it all on a quarter piece
Made about 1500
Them new J's was about 200
The word got back, they know I dun it
Spent a thou' on a few new drummas
Took it to them cause I knew they was comin'
Three yards left, ran through those like first and goal
Naw I'm back burnt pistol close like "who got the dough?"
Yea, DMX of the projects
Skinny black nigga with a complex fuck your pyrex
Robbin everything no patience for the nonsense
Professor X with a tec get your mind hit
They say I rap with a chip on my shoulder
Naw nigga this the wits of a soldier
Muthafucka it's Jay Rock
(laughs)
You got it big bro!
Real niggas wit me, my real bitches too
Out for trump change, yea I gotta eat
Patience is a virtue something flawless gon' come to me
I'm rollin O.G. blow it out the roof
She eyeballin me, mackin hoes like CPUs
She know me, might saw me on TV too
Thuggin wit the homies tryna make it kickin' ghetto tunes
Out the gutter bitch, what your focus is?
Small time hustlin, now it's time to do it big
I want it all, fancy cars yea the newest shit
Came a long way ridin round on my Buick shit
Went by any means, who said it best?
Kobe Bryant mind state I'm shootin til I'm accurate
Can't stop it til I'm a couple million strong
Grinding to put my loved ones on in my zone
Not your average rapper, step inside my universe
Far from you average rappers, nothin is by the book
Welcome to Hell's Kitchen, show you just how to cook
This city is full of bishops, putting pressure on rooks
My vision so panoramic my brain on another planet
To reach it you gon' need more than a neurologist
Honestly to be honest, far from lyrical
Gifted with miracles when I rhyme it's a ritual
Spit it it hit you spiritual nigga
I'm planning my day to triumph
All I got is my word and my sword, choppa and bible
I pray, pray a nigga never get in my way
Cause that'll be the moment he make his bed and just lay
And now you see me shinin' perfect timing I'm a Top Dawg
I love this feelin' make a killing when I'm on tour
All my life surrounded by negativity, jealousy
Through the mist of it all is what they tellin' me
(Muthafuckas can't rhyme no more, bout crimes no more)
When I was in the streets I put them numbers on the board
I robbed two niggas, put they chains in the pawn shop
Got 500 spent it all on a quarter piece
Made about 1500
Them new J's was about 200
The word got back, they know I dun it
Spent a thou' on a few new drummas
Took it to them cause I knew they was comin'
Three yards left, ran through those like first and goal
Naw I'm back burnt pistol close like "who got the dough?"
Yea, DMX of the projects
Skinny black nigga with a complex fuck your pyrex
Robbin everything no patience for the nonsense
Professor X with a tec get your mind hit
They say I rap with a chip on my shoulder
Naw nigga this the wits of a soldier
Muthafucka it's Jay Rock
(laughs)
You got it big bro!
Credits
Writer(s): Kanye Omari West, Shawn C. Carter, Bunny Sigler, Donald E. Cannon, Anthony King, Terrence Thornton, Chris E. Martin, Charles M. Njapa, John Matthews
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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