Credits
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Viren Sabir Fernandes
Songwriter
Rafeed Hossain
Songwriter
Anton Denisov
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Brady Patterson
Producer
Adam Clinch
Producer
24ADEN
Producer
Lyrics
Okay it's too bad that you want it bad enough
If you ain't putting in the time, it ain't adding up
I told God, let me rock, cause I had it rough
We in a different league now
You gotta pack it up
Bitch
Yeah
Yeah, pack it up
I see the numbers going up
I gotta add it up
I hear you talking all that talk, but you won't back it up
You say you really with the shits
I think you had enough
Feeling fresh, feel like Prince
Every time I take a step
Musty bitches tryna press
Here's a mint for they breath
I don't stress, I'ma kill it till I'm dead
Run the checks till my parents out of debt
Meditating on my wins
I did it for my kin
Nah bitch I ain't your twin
Y'all ain't even begin
I'm lapping y'all again
I'm on ten, I don't see competition
I don't need no permission
God said trust the vision
So now I do this for the cousins
That's hustling back in the Ville
Efficient with the pen when I'm bending words to my will
I step up in the party
I know I got that appeal
Sabir is here to clear, I ain't bragging I'm being real
I'm chosen
Wrist frozen
My hopes and prayers in motion
I'm chosen
Wrist frozen
My hopes and prayers in motion
Too bad that you want it bad enough
If you ain't putting in the time, it ain't adding up
I told God, let me rock, cause I had it rough
We in a different league now
You gotta pack it up
Yeah
Yeah, pack it up
I see the numbers going up
I gotta add it up
I hear you talking all that talk, but you won't back it up
You say you really with the shits
I think you had enough
Progress
23 with no options
Y'all rappers wanna play the game
I'ma make the game, that's a promise
MC to a CEO
Work smarter, get draped in gold
I'm Drake compose, Jay-Z with soul
Switch energy like how Ye do it
Dangerous
I cut through flows like Moses
I lost Gramps, became a man
No sudden shifts in my focus
Candy diamonds, Arnold Palmers
IG models, Mass Appeal
Get ripped by critics or cash, no interest
I want my money, fuck fame, for real
It's Raf, bitch
Fuck a white boot to lick, I'd rather die for this
Long nights over short success
That's the path to pave for lil bro and them
For my kids kids and the kids after
No money worries like Dad's son
I pay homage to the ones before
But I'll give my life for the ones to come
Steel split against my skin
Blood dripping down my shins
Nothing left behind my eyes
But you gotta grin
I done broke a lot of my bones
Said some things in spite of my Lord
Brought some things inside of my home
I can't quit yet
Okay it's too bad that you want it bad enough
If you ain't putting in the time, it ain't adding up
I told God, let me rock, cause I had it rough
We in a different league now
You gotta pack it up
Bitch
Yeah
Yeah, pack it up
I see the numbers going up
I gotta add it up
I hear you talking all that talk, but you won't back it up
You say you really with the shits
I think you had enough
Writer(s): Viren Fernandes
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