Can't Lose
Yeah, aye
I just walked up in the building, shit started smelling like that loud
Hey, I can't talk, I don't wanna
Kuz what you doing? I'm getting to the money
Yeah, my attire, came fresh up out that water
Yeah, I require, lots of marihuana
Yeah I always keep it on me, I don't do no orders
Coming acrossed the border, take off with your daughter
That's just what I do, yeah, this ain't nothing new
Turn up out the blue, turn the club into a zoo, whoo
Poof, there they go. There go Kuz, there go Dro
They just walked up out the store, prolly out to get the doe
Wow damn, where they going? Ain't no telling what I'm on
I wake and bake up in the evening, go to sleep up in the morning
Ah damn, I done told em I ain't worried bout nothing
I got too much on my head to start worrying bout some
Stay on point just for my commas, kuston mayne ya highness
You don't fuck with Gangthelabel, you don't fuck with Belgium's Finest ah
I ain't got nothing to prove to you motherfuckers
I just can't lose yeah
I thought I told you I ain't cool with em
Matter of fact, aye, I ain't got non to do with em
Get 'em out
Mirror mirror on the wall, who the freshest of them all?
It's Dro with them exclusives, you don't find em at the mall
Still standing with my dawg, and ofcourse we standing tall
Homie don't you ask me shit, cuz you know I don't recall
I'm awake, so I bake, purple grapes, by the lake
Bitch I'm young Captain Blake, and I got, what it take
Just to seperate to real from the fake, fuck a snitch fuck a snake
Stack the cake for fucks sake
Always had the most swag by far, you can see that from a far
OG gas in my cigar, a couple cookies in the jar
Make a hater look bizar, when we rising up the charts
I got non but classic banger shit, in my repetoire yuh yuh yuh
Yes bitch, the beat blessed bitch
I'm so selfish, pockets on swellfish
Local rapper fuck your coverart, and your tracklist
God damn
I ain't got nothing to prove to you motherfucker
I just can't lose, yeah
I thought I told you I ain't cool with em
Matter of fact, aye, I ain't got non to do with em
Get 'em out
Yeah
Damn
Free Wop
Yeah
I just walked up in the building, shit started smelling like that loud
Hey, I can't talk, I don't wanna
Kuz what you doing? I'm getting to the money
Yeah, my attire, came fresh up out that water
Yeah, I require, lots of marihuana
Yeah I always keep it on me, I don't do no orders
Coming acrossed the border, take off with your daughter
That's just what I do, yeah, this ain't nothing new
Turn up out the blue, turn the club into a zoo, whoo
Poof, there they go. There go Kuz, there go Dro
They just walked up out the store, prolly out to get the doe
Wow damn, where they going? Ain't no telling what I'm on
I wake and bake up in the evening, go to sleep up in the morning
Ah damn, I done told em I ain't worried bout nothing
I got too much on my head to start worrying bout some
Stay on point just for my commas, kuston mayne ya highness
You don't fuck with Gangthelabel, you don't fuck with Belgium's Finest ah
I ain't got nothing to prove to you motherfuckers
I just can't lose yeah
I thought I told you I ain't cool with em
Matter of fact, aye, I ain't got non to do with em
Get 'em out
Mirror mirror on the wall, who the freshest of them all?
It's Dro with them exclusives, you don't find em at the mall
Still standing with my dawg, and ofcourse we standing tall
Homie don't you ask me shit, cuz you know I don't recall
I'm awake, so I bake, purple grapes, by the lake
Bitch I'm young Captain Blake, and I got, what it take
Just to seperate to real from the fake, fuck a snitch fuck a snake
Stack the cake for fucks sake
Always had the most swag by far, you can see that from a far
OG gas in my cigar, a couple cookies in the jar
Make a hater look bizar, when we rising up the charts
I got non but classic banger shit, in my repetoire yuh yuh yuh
Yes bitch, the beat blessed bitch
I'm so selfish, pockets on swellfish
Local rapper fuck your coverart, and your tracklist
God damn
I ain't got nothing to prove to you motherfucker
I just can't lose, yeah
I thought I told you I ain't cool with em
Matter of fact, aye, I ain't got non to do with em
Get 'em out
Yeah
Damn
Free Wop
Yeah
Credits
Writer(s): Mark Ronson, Jeff Bhasker, Ricardo Brown, Nathaniel Hale, Michael Chabon
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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