Intro
Back already they ain't see me coming I be working like gates
I got 10 jobs I be getting down I ain't talking bout the Harlem shake
Circle real small like a fruit loop I be watching out for the snakes
This year I'm a get up on my Betty Crocker promise ima get a bunch a cake
I'm legal blind to the hate
But I can see through the fake
Real McCoy no knockout
No I don't carry the trait
Somebody call up sway
Tell him Houston problem
And puntin ain't come to play
Flow wet like I'm mopping
Came all this way I'm own
Don't let me get my zone
The rap game been a circus
So I'm here for the throne
You trying to stick with the Jones
A lot of rappers turned clone
Half you rappers acting hard
Know you're sweeter than a snow cone
Anything that I say behind your back I can say it to your face
I'm in my lane
Doing my own thang
Running at my own pace
I'm a drop about three this year
I ain't playing no games
If you stop looking at my plate hater you could probably do the same
See y'all then woke up a beast
Dr Dre with the beats
I'm bout to have me a have feast
Always stay ready to eat
This for the ones who were sleep
Sit down have a seat
Watch me wreck like a drunk driver
Tank never on E
Bone bone bone with the flow
Murder on the beat when it meet my flow
I been doing this since yay high bro
Ain't nothing to it but to do it lets go
These little rappers ain't seeing you greg
These little rappers ain't done what you did
These little rappers all talk they ain't bout that life they ain't crazy as they look greg
I never stop
I'm on the block
I'm in the hood
I'm at the spot
I got that fire
I got that dope
They gone cop anything that I drop
They say it's really lonely at the top
Well I am about to figure that out
Cause I'm on my way
Get out the way
Cause I'm a runover anything that block
I got 10 jobs I be getting down I ain't talking bout the Harlem shake
Circle real small like a fruit loop I be watching out for the snakes
This year I'm a get up on my Betty Crocker promise ima get a bunch a cake
I'm legal blind to the hate
But I can see through the fake
Real McCoy no knockout
No I don't carry the trait
Somebody call up sway
Tell him Houston problem
And puntin ain't come to play
Flow wet like I'm mopping
Came all this way I'm own
Don't let me get my zone
The rap game been a circus
So I'm here for the throne
You trying to stick with the Jones
A lot of rappers turned clone
Half you rappers acting hard
Know you're sweeter than a snow cone
Anything that I say behind your back I can say it to your face
I'm in my lane
Doing my own thang
Running at my own pace
I'm a drop about three this year
I ain't playing no games
If you stop looking at my plate hater you could probably do the same
See y'all then woke up a beast
Dr Dre with the beats
I'm bout to have me a have feast
Always stay ready to eat
This for the ones who were sleep
Sit down have a seat
Watch me wreck like a drunk driver
Tank never on E
Bone bone bone with the flow
Murder on the beat when it meet my flow
I been doing this since yay high bro
Ain't nothing to it but to do it lets go
These little rappers ain't seeing you greg
These little rappers ain't done what you did
These little rappers all talk they ain't bout that life they ain't crazy as they look greg
I never stop
I'm on the block
I'm in the hood
I'm at the spot
I got that fire
I got that dope
They gone cop anything that I drop
They say it's really lonely at the top
Well I am about to figure that out
Cause I'm on my way
Get out the way
Cause I'm a runover anything that block
Credits
Writer(s): Gregory Cooks
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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