Credits
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Onabure Ebodaghe
Songwriter
Lyrics
Ayo
Yeah, ayo
Anybody know just put me on a beat and I'll wreck it
This gon' really leave a big thumbs up on my record
Add a Tyler beat to the list and just check it
Have the whole game on crutches, senile and decrepit
My road to the top is an express lane
Steady grindin' in my own lane, just like the X Games
I be feeling so much Spain without the S, pain
And I ain't got that much else to explain
On the way back home, I'll take the next train
Fly her out to Santa Monica, take the next plane
Blessings to the ones that keep me humble through this shit
Trying not to act a fool, I think I'm goin' Ludacris
When I throw the hooks and jabs, niggas know I'm no average
Droppin' Burkins on the fam 'til the store got no baggage
Still won't give a fuck when I'm 21, I'm all savage
Don't be focusing on my plate, it's full, your boy can manage
Different flows, that's how the rap game go
Dropped "Saloon" and now I'm feeling like the rap Rango
Your girl hit me up 'cause in the sheets, she wanna tango
Back the machine, I'll be shooting rounds like I'm Rambo
Uh, Mario Maker, I'm stacking them bricks
Milly Rock through Times Square like I play for the Knicks
Uh, change the flow up again
Bars sick, gotta make sure I don't throw up again
Bure then and now, y'all can peep the glow up again
Like a time bomb, make my songs blow up again
I'm cut different nigga, you just a infant, nigga
Between me and you, it's quite the distance, nigga
You don't know it, but that shit be gettin' real bigger
Bad boy on the rocks like I'm Puffy and Jigga
My girl a 10, she got the brains and she got the figure
Spend a bag, told her it's whatever like I'm Digga
Uh, my diamonds dance with the stars
Push all the whips and the cars
I just go for the kill like Thirty Seconds to Mars
Paper, mic and a pen when I'm locked up behind bars
It ain't easy being me, you can see by my scars
Uh, dreams are made of this
These the times I miss, living in pure bliss
Order the New York strip at the Ruth's Chris
Pull up in the Hellcat with the roof missing
Giving thanks for the life that I got
Been dreaming of this shit since I was a lil' tot
I've been dreaming of this shit since mama was pushin' cot
On the scene, never lackin' like a IG bot
Check the temp, I'm hot
My pen game on a hundo
On that Dubai shit like Cactus Jack and the Huncho
Be a leader in this shit, no cappin' that's the motto
In my city, I'ma be what Drizzy is in Toronto
That's on God
See in Activision like I own COD
Another day at the office 'cause I've been on job
Your girl fiendin' how she grippin' my handle
I carry Washingtons around, call Ms Pope for a scandal
Hawk 'em with the red velvet, my clip on Kevin Huerter
Snackin' on a burger while committing lyrical murder
Like Stephen A barber, I push your wig back
New Dior and Air Forces, yeah, I dig dat
Metro Boomin, I might just shoot ya
All I want is free bands like I'm signing with Future
I create it 'cause the concept of the future kinda odd
Kinda odd 'cause the landscape of my future kinda broad
Just wanna dabble in the such
Wanna get to the point where I'm not doin' too much
Take my time with the shits, just don't get in a rush
I'ma artist, no A Boogie, need some paint and a brush
Look, 'cause I'm designing my world
As the Prince, I'm decorating with the diamonds and pearls
Sippin' OJ at the park with my Tylers and Earls
Bumpin' "Flower Boy" and right beside is my Flower Girl
Uh, I be snappin', I be floatin'
Got some more shit to write, no time to get to gloatin'
Killed the beat so man, I just feel like that guy
I'll be bumpin' OF 'til the day that I die
Gone
Writer(s): Onabure Ebodaghe
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