Released: November 10, 2016
Featuring: Joey Bada$$
Songwriter: Statik Selektah Joey Bada$$ Termanology
Producer: Statik Selektah
[Intro: Joey Bada$$]
Top shotta, boy
Ya feel me?
Top shotta, boy
[Verse 1: Termanology]
Sippin' this liquor off the 8th floor balcony
Thinkin' how I made the whole world bounce for me
I had to bubble on the low and blow silently
No longer wanna be the one to live violently
Two baby mamas, two baby's, that's four mouth's to feed
A hundred friends but none of em looking out for me
Got tax issues, got debts, and got accountant fees
But I just wanna heal my pain with this cloud of tree
Is it all in my mind, or am I paranoid
Is this karma in the air, one I can't avoid
Can I, lord?
Ask you to gimme the strength to not lust for anything I can't afford
I don't need no awards or nothing immature
I was more thinking less nightmare
And mental wars
Thinking how my Aunt Tammy died last month
Got me smoking every el like it's my last blunt
I keep it humble don't chill with people that's gassed up
Some of my friends rich, some of them on they last buck
How could I stop showing you love cuz you had bad luck
Anybody could vouch for me—any hood I get mad love
[Verse 2: Joey Bada$$]
The fusillade get sprayed, never delayed
I'm just coming for a blaze, every time I blaze
Take a minute just to look back in the days
As I reminisce the maze
But I'm still a caged rat, that's a staged fact
And you should page 8 that
Trying to get the papers
Caught up, up on the vapors
Hiatus to my haters
The pupil's dilators
See 'em how they traitors
And then they rate us greatest and then they slave us
And enslave us in and engrave in our mind
That we can't be the greatest
"We wasted too much time"
Taking time for granted
The food of life I planted
I pomegranate—last man repping for the planet
I guess they granted
All my African Bambaataa patois
Pot of gold, I make that Harry Potter "poof"
You rappers not a sun;
You not hotter
Pick up like papa to the realest top shotta
[Outro: Joey Bada$$]
Top shotta, boy
[Produced by Statik Selektah]
Top shotta, boy
Ya feel me?
Top shotta, boy
[Verse 1: Termanology]
Sippin' this liquor off the 8th floor balcony
Thinkin' how I made the whole world bounce for me
I had to bubble on the low and blow silently
No longer wanna be the one to live violently
Two baby mamas, two baby's, that's four mouth's to feed
A hundred friends but none of em looking out for me
Got tax issues, got debts, and got accountant fees
But I just wanna heal my pain with this cloud of tree
Is it all in my mind, or am I paranoid
Is this karma in the air, one I can't avoid
Can I, lord?
Ask you to gimme the strength to not lust for anything I can't afford
I don't need no awards or nothing immature
I was more thinking less nightmare
And mental wars
Thinking how my Aunt Tammy died last month
Got me smoking every el like it's my last blunt
I keep it humble don't chill with people that's gassed up
Some of my friends rich, some of them on they last buck
How could I stop showing you love cuz you had bad luck
Anybody could vouch for me—any hood I get mad love
[Verse 2: Joey Bada$$]
The fusillade get sprayed, never delayed
I'm just coming for a blaze, every time I blaze
Take a minute just to look back in the days
As I reminisce the maze
But I'm still a caged rat, that's a staged fact
And you should page 8 that
Trying to get the papers
Caught up, up on the vapors
Hiatus to my haters
The pupil's dilators
See 'em how they traitors
And then they rate us greatest and then they slave us
And enslave us in and engrave in our mind
That we can't be the greatest
"We wasted too much time"
Taking time for granted
The food of life I planted
I pomegranate—last man repping for the planet
I guess they granted
All my African Bambaataa patois
Pot of gold, I make that Harry Potter "poof"
You rappers not a sun;
You not hotter
Pick up like papa to the realest top shotta
[Outro: Joey Bada$$]
Top shotta, boy
[Produced by Statik Selektah]