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Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Big Henri
Vocals
Cub da CookUpBoss
Vocals
Mike Hartnett
Guitar
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Big Henri
Songwriter
Cub da CookUpBoss
Songwriter
Michael Atha
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
DJ Klever
Producer
Irv Johnson
Mastering Engineer
Matthew Hayes
Mixing Engineer
Lyrics
One, two, one
Salute me when you see me, bitch, I'm the cook up boss
$hifeLife up in this bitch, now you gotta break me off
I party like a rockstar, you see me, hoe
Henny where I put in work, best believe it, hoe
See I am not a rapper, although, I'm something else
So I'ma turn it up a notch 'cause I don't need these niggas help
Fuck y'all, not you, I mean all of y'all
I'm ESPN with this rappin' shit, check my stats on how I ball
My elevator goin' up, I'm never slowin' up
'Cause they gonna need a little more than lean
'Cause I'm never givin' up
I'm focused like I'm on some Adderall
I got no review and no brakes, and I'm runnin' out of patience
I don't know where I'm goin'
I just know where I've been, I've been, yeah
I just keep on rollin'
Wherever the wind is blowin', blowin', yeah
Look at all this blood on my hands
Look at all these hands on my plate
Niggas that say that they real
They be the first ones to hate
Look at all the shit in my life
Did a lot of dirt to get striped
But at the end of that night
Still need more than sacrifice
I'm the soul of Orlando, Cortez Phillips my family
We still goin' commando, any business gets handled
Once the picture is painted, ain't no way we can swerve
Get out what we put in, everything we deserve
Feelin' good, feelin' great, flights in and out of state
Must be in my DNA, the way I keep this shit straight
Fist full everyday, clips fool everyday
For whoever wanna play, boy, I'm bustin' out the gate
I don't know where I'm goin'
I just know where I've been, I've been, yeah
I just keep on rollin'
Wherever the wind is blowin', blowin', yeah
Uh, kinda like a Friday I feel
Kinda like a highway I feel, yeah
Hard white like a coke deal
Rollin' with a spoke on the front wheel
Hardly in the wind, I'm tuned in
Let the grips underneath my rings, my teeth bling
Permanent pirate, slum to the dirt
Crown me king, imperial poet
Lace my bud with LSD
Picture me floatin' at 16
Play with the Ouija board 'til the Devil lost his focus
Mental wars, built me up
Veteran soldier, pistol totin'
Sharp as a sickle, drippin', broken
Wish you would, I ain't hopin'
Like a creek to an ocean eventually connects
I found my way into that wave and rode it with respect
Now some of these country boys are rappin', but have no intellect
No introspective on the genre, just out there for that check
But fuck the world, I'm no lie detector
And if you're conscious does not affect ya
Then slide ya products, find investors
Monetize the lies you perfected
That's a slippery slope to no end
But, hey, that's the way it goes, then
After the show, they close in
When you're burnin' the wick at both ends
I don't know where I'm goin'
I just know where I've been, I've been, yeah
I just keep on rollin'
Wherever the wind is blowin', blowin', yeah
Rollin', rollin', rollin' (yeah)
Rollin', rollin', rollin'
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Writer(s): Michael Atha, Michael Hartnett, Joshua Winkler
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