Just Because

I just want to wake up in the mornin'
Drop the top like I'm a samurai
I just want to a 100 mill, a house up on the hill
Sipping out the seal, looking at the sun rise
I just want to look like I'm a champion
I just want to plug that's a Italian
I just want to live betta than average
I just want to I just want to I just want to
I just want to live up in the penthouse
I just want 2 bitches and they give me mouth
I just want to make it out this muthafuckin' trap house
I just want to I just want to I just want to

(Offset)
1991 I was established
Mama told me stop trappin' and cappin', boy ya talented
I did not listen so I ended up wit the savages
Stuck in the county couldn't do nothin' it was tragedy
I just want to look like I'm the president
In the trap erryday man I had perfect attendance
All of the re up money I fucked up and I spent it
When I told my mama that we gon' be rich, nigga I meant it
I just want to live like I'm a bachelor
Got the chef in the kitchen cookin' up caviar
Doin' 100 in the rari screaming fuck the law
Got the chopper aimin' at ya wit the monkey balls
If I don't got the Actavis then it's withdrawl
Got the pussy nigga missin' like a sick call
I just want to be on top and neva eva fall
Up and downs in the trap like a see-saw
Trap, trappin' out the gym without a basketball
I just want millions of dollars and partners that shoot you like shooters
I got two bitches they fuckin' and swallow
Don't love them just swap them

(2: Quavo)
I just want to be what I want to be
Got two lambo seats in the old school topless T
Cruisin' like Penelope
I grew up on the westside of avenue
Ya can ask errybody about me
Game in a knot like a tennis shoe
What ya goin' to do when the feds run into ya
I came from tryin' on clothes in the fittin' room
To lockin' the doors in the Bentley coupe
If my bro drop the pack, then ya know I got it
The coupe got the gadgets its like robotics
Giuseppe Zanotti it mark my body
Young rich nigga still walkin' round wit the profit
Tell ya a story about one lil bird
One lil bird when the peckin' on the curb
Did he get up, did he fly like a real bird
Ova the sea wit the white like young Spielberg
Thirty pointer, forty pointer, look at the Franck Muller
Walk in yo city, I feel like a king, I am the rula
Who is the shooter? My niggas be trap off the calculator like computer



Credits
Writer(s): Jim Chaffin, Brayan Gray, Jeremy Moffit
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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