Released: May 18, 2018
Featuring: Rapsody
Songwriter: My Guy Mars Rapsody T.I.
Producer: My Guy Mars
[Verse 1: T.I.]
Yeah
Well
Attention to my youngins coming up in this shit
Let me tell you what you do, teachers say you ain’t shit
Hack off in her IG, get up in her email
Find something in it that’ll humble that bitch
Get a 8 ball better not fumble that bitch
Better double that shit
Make a hundred right back
It outta be illegal making money like this
If it is that what everyone says you can’t tell
Yeah
Imma have a thing for the arm and hammer
Before these niggas was even thinkin’ about Atlanta
Little Bankhead nigga off Balton Road
With a snubbed nose short like Muggsy Bogues
Don’t try one can't take 6 of us
Plus you might get shot no fisticuffs (okay)
King in real life
Shinnin’ til my
Lights cut off and life is fucked off
Til them and Rick kept me in Miami ducked off
Somewhere on Biscayne
Ride in the Lambo
Abracadabra magic like we in Orlando
And where your bitch go
And where her pants go
Turn that around automatically mando
If her feet fucked up hanging out her sandals
On that mob shit like Marlon Brando
Smoking weed trappin’ standing under the lamp post
For real all a nigga ever done
Was come up on a bag turn around and get another one
Then how I came up on a bunch of money
And a bunch of motherfuckers tryna find a way to get it from me
Avoid the red tape proceed to rampage
Now a days these niggas be so goddamn fake
And I can’t stand things that are pretending
To hear you speak is so condensing
I say fuck that watch with your diamonds in it
Tryna turn myself into a monument
Stimulate the economy
Buy a Rolls Royce and hold your horse
Niggas talk loud but got no voice
Better fall in line and leave no choice
And I ain’t finna play about that
And that’s really all a nigga really care to say about that
[Verse 2: Rapsody]
Bust
Dedicated to all the bustas
We just bustin’
TIP
RAP
ATL to Raleigh North Carolina
But I was born and raised in Snowy Hill 252 Green County all day yeah
Where I’m from some niggas do die
Some women do bust everybody got 5
I ain’t never done street shit, just too fly
Get down, lay down, boy we’re too high
Hood divided I seen it live, seen the drugs, seen the love
All of it here for pride
Use to date a drug dealer in my past life
Drink Boons Farm smoke just to pass nights
Potential bigger than a monument
Real nigga, look up to me honestly
And my old whip, that old shit, the 95
I use to 9 to 5 with back in 99
I had a real job fool I could legally drive
Return pushin’ a kickass ride
Bustin’ rhymes, I bust around, bustin’ 9s
Y’all doin’ that y’all is wild
Tell ya child they ain’t gotta walk or run the mile
We ran the course so y’all can stop
Tip ‘em back the tip of that I tip ‘em over
He dead yeah yeah I know it
Mother fuckas should know I’m Noah
Ha ha big boat bitch uh
Look I could walk on water ah
I care to say I care bout y’all
Care bout love, care bout God
Carry the cross don’t get carried away
Over character flaws mother fuckas they don’t care bout us
Michael Jordan, Michael Jackson, Mike Tyson I punch ‘em out
Mother fucka what happened here
TIP, RAP kill it
Mother fucka back how the fuck you feelin’ ah
Yeah
Well
Attention to my youngins coming up in this shit
Let me tell you what you do, teachers say you ain’t shit
Hack off in her IG, get up in her email
Find something in it that’ll humble that bitch
Get a 8 ball better not fumble that bitch
Better double that shit
Make a hundred right back
It outta be illegal making money like this
If it is that what everyone says you can’t tell
Yeah
Imma have a thing for the arm and hammer
Before these niggas was even thinkin’ about Atlanta
Little Bankhead nigga off Balton Road
With a snubbed nose short like Muggsy Bogues
Don’t try one can't take 6 of us
Plus you might get shot no fisticuffs (okay)
King in real life
Shinnin’ til my
Lights cut off and life is fucked off
Til them and Rick kept me in Miami ducked off
Somewhere on Biscayne
Ride in the Lambo
Abracadabra magic like we in Orlando
And where your bitch go
And where her pants go
Turn that around automatically mando
If her feet fucked up hanging out her sandals
On that mob shit like Marlon Brando
Smoking weed trappin’ standing under the lamp post
For real all a nigga ever done
Was come up on a bag turn around and get another one
Then how I came up on a bunch of money
And a bunch of motherfuckers tryna find a way to get it from me
Avoid the red tape proceed to rampage
Now a days these niggas be so goddamn fake
And I can’t stand things that are pretending
To hear you speak is so condensing
I say fuck that watch with your diamonds in it
Tryna turn myself into a monument
Stimulate the economy
Buy a Rolls Royce and hold your horse
Niggas talk loud but got no voice
Better fall in line and leave no choice
And I ain’t finna play about that
And that’s really all a nigga really care to say about that
[Verse 2: Rapsody]
Bust
Dedicated to all the bustas
We just bustin’
TIP
RAP
ATL to Raleigh North Carolina
But I was born and raised in Snowy Hill 252 Green County all day yeah
Where I’m from some niggas do die
Some women do bust everybody got 5
I ain’t never done street shit, just too fly
Get down, lay down, boy we’re too high
Hood divided I seen it live, seen the drugs, seen the love
All of it here for pride
Use to date a drug dealer in my past life
Drink Boons Farm smoke just to pass nights
Potential bigger than a monument
Real nigga, look up to me honestly
And my old whip, that old shit, the 95
I use to 9 to 5 with back in 99
I had a real job fool I could legally drive
Return pushin’ a kickass ride
Bustin’ rhymes, I bust around, bustin’ 9s
Y’all doin’ that y’all is wild
Tell ya child they ain’t gotta walk or run the mile
We ran the course so y’all can stop
Tip ‘em back the tip of that I tip ‘em over
He dead yeah yeah I know it
Mother fuckas should know I’m Noah
Ha ha big boat bitch uh
Look I could walk on water ah
I care to say I care bout y’all
Care bout love, care bout God
Carry the cross don’t get carried away
Over character flaws mother fuckas they don’t care bout us
Michael Jordan, Michael Jackson, Mike Tyson I punch ‘em out
Mother fucka what happened here
TIP, RAP kill it
Mother fucka back how the fuck you feelin’ ah
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- Memories Back Then
- No Mediocre
- That’s All She Wrote
- Live Your Life
- Sorry
- Dead and Gone
- Whatever You Like
- Go Get It
- Ball
- What You Know
- Wit Me
- Guns and Roses
- Rubber Band Man
- No Matter What
- About the Money (Remix)
- Peanut Butter Jelly
- Private Show
- Bring Em Out
- Poppin Bottles
- Why You Wanna
- Trap Back Jumping
- Jefe
- Welcome to the World