Maduro

Heylog Sir, if you'd like to smoke, you need to be another 20 feet from the door So, roll me further, bitch Don't you ever talk about me or you're gonna get yourself hurt I wake up and I'm winning, how does second feel when I'm first? My life might be lame, but at least that I'm not lamer I gotta get going and I hope to see you never Yeah, yeah, yeah Yeah, yeah, yeah Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah Yeah, yeah, yeah I'm getting closer and closer and closer and closer and Closer and closer and closer and closer It's over, it's over, it's over, it's over 'Cause I'ma steer off if I keep losing composure You're getting closer and closer and closer and closer and Closer and closer and closer and close- It's over, it's over, it's over, it's over, it's over, it's over, it's over, it's- If you ever talk about me, boy, you're gonna get your ego hurt How does second feel when I'm consistently just placing first? Maybe you'll reflect from your mistakes just how I have learned We are not the same, 'cause you are opposite of my d- I have fun, I don't need a beer You talk and it goes out my ear My hair smells like tobacco smoke Puff cigars, the brand's Maduro She's wasted while I'm cooking heat (damn, son) I can't talk, I'm making a beat Can't text, I'm sweating down my chin Pump iron, bumping 2hollis Don't you ever talk about me or you're gonna get yourself hurt I wake up and I'm winning, how does second feel when I'm first? My life might be lame, but at least that I'm not lamer I gotta get going and I hope to see you never Yeah, yeah, yeah Yeah, yeah, yeah Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah