Featuring: JID Joey Bada$$ WESTSIDE BOOGIE Denzel Curry Jack Harlow Isaiah Rashad
Songwriter: JID Joey Bada$$ WESTSIDE BOOGIE Denzel Curry Jack Harlow Isaiah Rashad REASON
Producer: Devin Williams (Producer) jetsonmade
[Intro: Isaiah Rashad]
Yeah
I'm just sayin' that, yeah
I just, damn
Yeah, yeah
[Verse 1: Isaiah Rashad]
I take my licks in the storm, bitch do me raw
Yeah, still fuckin' 'til six in the morn'
Son, how I flooded out the wrist to reward
Damn, they don't make 'em like this anymore
Don't try to hold that, you can't control that
I bought the 'Rari, the Tesla, then I got the throwback
I used to ride it, the Honda that was black as Kodak
And I recall it, like a picture, that is, really, that's sick
Big screen lyrics, yeah, sixteen nearin', and
"Zay, 'fore you leave, Can you fuck me in the mirror?" Yeah
Baby, I got too many bitches not to mention them
Hoes, I don't evеn know they names but they bе feelin' it tough
They wanna touch me like under covers and anacondas
Before you fuckin' go purchase your Gary Paytons
I'm really not everybody, sippin' and talkin' bad as yo' daddy
You shouldn't fuck with these niggas, we was the reckless
[Verse 2: REASON & JID]
Yeah, I fuck my bitch when I'm bored, rich from the poor
Drunk, high, stumblin' off the shits and record
Smooth nigga, even when I miss, I'ma score
Damn, they don't make 'em like this anymore
Zay, I don't agree what you talkin', I ain't no regular
Fuck you think they callin' me, "Him?" I'm a competitor
Levelin', young veteran, more lines than editors
Shit, why you think we Top Dawgs? Niggas different, uh
I been that nigga since Hov was Big Pimpin'
Fly nigga, ain't no gravity, damn
Say somethin' slick, we on your line like a family plan
I used to throw up gang signs out my granny new van
Just some young hood niggas with no guidance like Drake and Chris
My latest shit, make niggas elevate they pen
My new chick always say she ain't no basic bitch
Well, tell me why we always argue over basic shit? That's crazy
2020, we can burn one
I done took way too many Ls and I ain't earned some
No more buyin' bags for bitches that can't afford one
No more gettin' brain from bitches that I can't learn from
Look, we done went from H to the Izzo
To now a bunch of niggas and bitches with all gimmicks
Show they ass more than Lizzo, shit (That's my baby, haha)
This shit screwed up (Oh), I stayed the same like grenades
When I took my pen out, a nigga blew up (Look)
[Verse 3: JID & REASON]
I used to ride through the six with my boys, kick in your door
Psychoanalysis, I feel like Sigmund Freud
Video vixen, she copped her tits from the store, said
"Damn, they don't make 'em like this a—"
Bitch, you are doorbell dumb
Lookin' from crumbs in the cracks of a couch in a mad house
I laugh out loud at shit I'm mad 'bout
Cash cow or mad cow if I ever cashed out
Backpedals and tackles just turn into the rap route
Mac robbin' niggas with MACs after he maxed out
Called him again, minimum chance he get back out
Scope and a lens, we was kids with bubble wrap
Oblivious to the fact the candy lady was a trap house
Slidin' through the city, I'm like Sly and the Stones
I got the fam and the blicky if you're eyein' me wrong
Told the cop, "It ain't the fifties, I'll pop this chrome
And I will not be wrong," next stop we home (Yeah)
[Chorus: REASON]
Wait JID, I'm in some pussy, I was knee-deeper than Funkadelics
I am legend, that explain all the will that a nigga carry
Talkin' real big wheel like Ferris, top that shit from the greatest
Newborn babies, that shit newly apparent, REASON
[Post-Chorus: Isaiah Rashad]
I take my licks in the storm, bitch do me raw
Yeah, still fuckin' 'til six in the morn'
Son, how I flooded out the wrist to reward
Damn, they don't make 'em like this—
[Verse 5: Joey Bada$$]
Uh, niggas want my old shit, buy my old album
And tell your favorite rappers, come see me and peep the outcome
I put a X right beside his name like Malcolm
And give his head to the nigga that- stole the style from
I got a list of niggas to kill, don't ask, "How come?"
Don't ask no names, just pray that you not one
I ain't playin' with these niggas but they still is my sons
And fuck your top five if I ain't your top one
These raps written in blood, I got little for buzz
Know how I'm feelin' this bud, I'm the king of my city
Not gon' fiddle with love, but ain't nobody to trust if niggas ain't with the fuss
I see through the poker face, dawg I'm calling the bluff
I shine like a multifaceted gem in the rough
I'm passionate with every pen that I touch
It's like I wrote this shit in cursive
God MC flow, nigga these is Bible verses
The feature feet on the clue to hearses
Same thing you gifted with is what your beat cursed with
[Verse 6: WESTSIDE BOOGIE]
Yeah, yeah, uh
Who left the bricks on the floor, we too big on the boards
Well, smooth nigga off the bench, I'ma score
I could hit a million hoes, that's legit, but I'm sure
They don't make 'em like my bitch anymore, who let these kids in the door
You was 'posed to keep it closed, now they in here throwing stones
And break the window to my soul, ain't no remote chance in hell I ever let 'em get control, uh
I surf the 'Gram and see the wave you niggas rode, go to the board for the lesson
I be transparent with you, just don't be projecting
Who taught you to be armed and use your guard as a weapon?
Who told you, hit your shell every time you feel threatened?
You know that I've been stressed, I smoked a quarter by afternoon
I walk with an attitude, I gave you niggas change and got no token of gratitude
Like what I gotta do to make you tap in?
I might fuck around, start beefin' with my rap friends, fuck you REASON
[Verse 7: Denzel Curry]
Before we roam, let me go back to the start
'Cause art imitates life and life imitates art
Once we start to dive in this knowledge and this wisdom
They gon' always wanna box us in like it's cubism
Knew about Picasso before I was a snot-nose
Before I had a pot to piss in, and for a hot stone
Pressure is like walkin' across hot coal
I'm cooler than a North Face in Norway, Oslo
Everybody on this track is known to slay shit
JID gave me a reason to snap on Zay shit
Toy with my emotions, I am not one to play with
I'm rappin' with these Top Dawgs, to chill with my down bitch
That is no lie, I'm a nice guy and a wise guy
With a bright mind fresh out of Muay Thai
Don't like to beef with niggas 'cause they all pie
Only time they really caught a body was in Far Cry
Try to bring the Grammy to the crib, that's it
Why die to be a legend when I live that shit?
You could talk about my music, I don't give two shits because
Sooner or later you gon' ride my dick
Icarus if I fall off, but Imma soar
Like a sprained ankle when landed on the floor
If you don't like the song, here's the exit door
'Cause they don't really make 'em like- (JetsonMade another one)
[Verse 8: Jack Harlow & REASON]
Bitch we've been bored, I wish we could tour
Girl you need Christ, not Christian Dior
Why you keep trying to take pics with me for?
Damn, they don't make 'em like this anymore
A white boy broke her heart back in high school
Now she told me she ain't takin' white dick anymore
"Damn, are you sure?" Cried when she don't get her way
"Damn, are you four?" Stole her heart, now I'm tryna slide in the getaway
The game chose me, baby I didn't get a say
I done watched a lot of rappers rise and disintegrate
Paid attention to the styles I'm finna demonstrate, this is how you do it mane
World's gettin' too insane, turned a check into a chain
Tuggin' on a new earrher NuvaRing, we are not the same
If you fuckin' with my crew then you got the right brothers like we flew a plane
Don't ask me about it, let your boo explain (Look)
[Pre-Chorus: REASON]
Say she don't know REASON, that shit too insane
Old school, put my shorty on Biggie like Pootie Tang, do ya' thang
Cap in all the raps, that shit don't stop
Your shit like Breonna Taylor killers, that shit don't knock
[Chorus: REASON]
Wait Jack, I'm in some pussy, I was knee-deeper than Funkadelics
I am legend, that explain all the will that a nigga carry
Talkin' real big wheel like Ferris, top that shit from the greatest
Newborn babies, that shit newly apparent, REASON
[Post-Chorus: Isaiah Rashad]
I take my licks in the storm, bitch do me raw
Yeah, still fuckin' 'til six in the morn'
Son, how I flooded out the wrist to reward
Damn, they don't make 'em like this anymore
Yeah
I'm just sayin' that, yeah
I just, damn
Yeah, yeah
[Verse 1: Isaiah Rashad]
I take my licks in the storm, bitch do me raw
Yeah, still fuckin' 'til six in the morn'
Son, how I flooded out the wrist to reward
Damn, they don't make 'em like this anymore
Don't try to hold that, you can't control that
I bought the 'Rari, the Tesla, then I got the throwback
I used to ride it, the Honda that was black as Kodak
And I recall it, like a picture, that is, really, that's sick
Big screen lyrics, yeah, sixteen nearin', and
"Zay, 'fore you leave, Can you fuck me in the mirror?" Yeah
Baby, I got too many bitches not to mention them
Hoes, I don't evеn know they names but they bе feelin' it tough
They wanna touch me like under covers and anacondas
Before you fuckin' go purchase your Gary Paytons
I'm really not everybody, sippin' and talkin' bad as yo' daddy
You shouldn't fuck with these niggas, we was the reckless
[Verse 2: REASON & JID]
Yeah, I fuck my bitch when I'm bored, rich from the poor
Drunk, high, stumblin' off the shits and record
Smooth nigga, even when I miss, I'ma score
Damn, they don't make 'em like this anymore
Zay, I don't agree what you talkin', I ain't no regular
Fuck you think they callin' me, "Him?" I'm a competitor
Levelin', young veteran, more lines than editors
Shit, why you think we Top Dawgs? Niggas different, uh
I been that nigga since Hov was Big Pimpin'
Fly nigga, ain't no gravity, damn
Say somethin' slick, we on your line like a family plan
I used to throw up gang signs out my granny new van
Just some young hood niggas with no guidance like Drake and Chris
My latest shit, make niggas elevate they pen
My new chick always say she ain't no basic bitch
Well, tell me why we always argue over basic shit? That's crazy
2020, we can burn one
I done took way too many Ls and I ain't earned some
No more buyin' bags for bitches that can't afford one
No more gettin' brain from bitches that I can't learn from
Look, we done went from H to the Izzo
To now a bunch of niggas and bitches with all gimmicks
Show they ass more than Lizzo, shit (That's my baby, haha)
This shit screwed up (Oh), I stayed the same like grenades
When I took my pen out, a nigga blew up (Look)
[Verse 3: JID & REASON]
I used to ride through the six with my boys, kick in your door
Psychoanalysis, I feel like Sigmund Freud
Video vixen, she copped her tits from the store, said
"Damn, they don't make 'em like this a—"
Bitch, you are doorbell dumb
Lookin' from crumbs in the cracks of a couch in a mad house
I laugh out loud at shit I'm mad 'bout
Cash cow or mad cow if I ever cashed out
Backpedals and tackles just turn into the rap route
Mac robbin' niggas with MACs after he maxed out
Called him again, minimum chance he get back out
Scope and a lens, we was kids with bubble wrap
Oblivious to the fact the candy lady was a trap house
Slidin' through the city, I'm like Sly and the Stones
I got the fam and the blicky if you're eyein' me wrong
Told the cop, "It ain't the fifties, I'll pop this chrome
And I will not be wrong," next stop we home (Yeah)
[Chorus: REASON]
Wait JID, I'm in some pussy, I was knee-deeper than Funkadelics
I am legend, that explain all the will that a nigga carry
Talkin' real big wheel like Ferris, top that shit from the greatest
Newborn babies, that shit newly apparent, REASON
[Post-Chorus: Isaiah Rashad]
I take my licks in the storm, bitch do me raw
Yeah, still fuckin' 'til six in the morn'
Son, how I flooded out the wrist to reward
Damn, they don't make 'em like this—
[Verse 5: Joey Bada$$]
Uh, niggas want my old shit, buy my old album
And tell your favorite rappers, come see me and peep the outcome
I put a X right beside his name like Malcolm
And give his head to the nigga that- stole the style from
I got a list of niggas to kill, don't ask, "How come?"
Don't ask no names, just pray that you not one
I ain't playin' with these niggas but they still is my sons
And fuck your top five if I ain't your top one
These raps written in blood, I got little for buzz
Know how I'm feelin' this bud, I'm the king of my city
Not gon' fiddle with love, but ain't nobody to trust if niggas ain't with the fuss
I see through the poker face, dawg I'm calling the bluff
I shine like a multifaceted gem in the rough
I'm passionate with every pen that I touch
It's like I wrote this shit in cursive
God MC flow, nigga these is Bible verses
The feature feet on the clue to hearses
Same thing you gifted with is what your beat cursed with
[Verse 6: WESTSIDE BOOGIE]
Yeah, yeah, uh
Who left the bricks on the floor, we too big on the boards
Well, smooth nigga off the bench, I'ma score
I could hit a million hoes, that's legit, but I'm sure
They don't make 'em like my bitch anymore, who let these kids in the door
You was 'posed to keep it closed, now they in here throwing stones
And break the window to my soul, ain't no remote chance in hell I ever let 'em get control, uh
I surf the 'Gram and see the wave you niggas rode, go to the board for the lesson
I be transparent with you, just don't be projecting
Who taught you to be armed and use your guard as a weapon?
Who told you, hit your shell every time you feel threatened?
You know that I've been stressed, I smoked a quarter by afternoon
I walk with an attitude, I gave you niggas change and got no token of gratitude
Like what I gotta do to make you tap in?
I might fuck around, start beefin' with my rap friends, fuck you REASON
[Verse 7: Denzel Curry]
Before we roam, let me go back to the start
'Cause art imitates life and life imitates art
Once we start to dive in this knowledge and this wisdom
They gon' always wanna box us in like it's cubism
Knew about Picasso before I was a snot-nose
Before I had a pot to piss in, and for a hot stone
Pressure is like walkin' across hot coal
I'm cooler than a North Face in Norway, Oslo
Everybody on this track is known to slay shit
JID gave me a reason to snap on Zay shit
Toy with my emotions, I am not one to play with
I'm rappin' with these Top Dawgs, to chill with my down bitch
That is no lie, I'm a nice guy and a wise guy
With a bright mind fresh out of Muay Thai
Don't like to beef with niggas 'cause they all pie
Only time they really caught a body was in Far Cry
Try to bring the Grammy to the crib, that's it
Why die to be a legend when I live that shit?
You could talk about my music, I don't give two shits because
Sooner or later you gon' ride my dick
Icarus if I fall off, but Imma soar
Like a sprained ankle when landed on the floor
If you don't like the song, here's the exit door
'Cause they don't really make 'em like- (JetsonMade another one)
[Verse 8: Jack Harlow & REASON]
Bitch we've been bored, I wish we could tour
Girl you need Christ, not Christian Dior
Why you keep trying to take pics with me for?
Damn, they don't make 'em like this anymore
A white boy broke her heart back in high school
Now she told me she ain't takin' white dick anymore
"Damn, are you sure?" Cried when she don't get her way
"Damn, are you four?" Stole her heart, now I'm tryna slide in the getaway
The game chose me, baby I didn't get a say
I done watched a lot of rappers rise and disintegrate
Paid attention to the styles I'm finna demonstrate, this is how you do it mane
World's gettin' too insane, turned a check into a chain
Tuggin' on a new earrher NuvaRing, we are not the same
If you fuckin' with my crew then you got the right brothers like we flew a plane
Don't ask me about it, let your boo explain (Look)
[Pre-Chorus: REASON]
Say she don't know REASON, that shit too insane
Old school, put my shorty on Biggie like Pootie Tang, do ya' thang
Cap in all the raps, that shit don't stop
Your shit like Breonna Taylor killers, that shit don't knock
[Chorus: REASON]
Wait Jack, I'm in some pussy, I was knee-deeper than Funkadelics
I am legend, that explain all the will that a nigga carry
Talkin' real big wheel like Ferris, top that shit from the greatest
Newborn babies, that shit newly apparent, REASON
[Post-Chorus: Isaiah Rashad]
I take my licks in the storm, bitch do me raw
Yeah, still fuckin' 'til six in the morn'
Son, how I flooded out the wrist to reward
Damn, they don't make 'em like this anymore