Watching Hitchco*ks till I drift off
Woke up to this beat let that sh** knock
She won’t give top till my dick’s out
Clockwork every week and it’s like tick tock
I just hit Atlanta I got 2for with me
In the co*kpit, I might just take em to Pluto with me
If Bruno hit me we might have to f** with Mars
And they don’t want to hear me sing
They told me rap those f**ing bars
Well all right
Trust I ain’t forgot how to do it
I been in hibernation trying to f**ing stockpile this music
I heard the sh** that y’all been dropping
Is monotonous to me
You got a mic inside your room, well see that’s not how you use it
Y’all f**ing s**
Keep your distances from me
They should’ve warned you don’t be f**ing with that kid from Kentucky
I know some hipsters in my city, won’t admit that they love me
Cause back when they were my age
They wasn’t sh** expect ugly
Chandeliers swinging through my comfort zone
Standing here thinking how we gonna blow
She got the manicured fingers with the bu*t that go
With her jeans, fitted, yeah she covered in Atlanta snow
And as for me, I’m just a young one
Walking, talking [?]
I’m been trying to find the next step
To make my best friends rich
And you been sitting round wondering if the blunt is rolled
Y’all come and go with them 20-minute dreams
Blown away by a coincidence I wonder what it means
Check your horoscopes at night and fall in love with what you read
Like the universe gon have my back in 2017
You ain’t bout sh**
Feeling like I’m Reggie Miller down six
Doing ninety looking out for undercover Crown Vics
Flying out the city paying zero dollars round trip
Saw her take a picture of me told her take it down quick
b**h I’m from the Lou
And they know me when they see me
Ever since I was in school
I should shout out to my father
Know they peep me handle business
All you really gotta know is I get it from that dude
Shooting from the Nazareth
We shooting for that platinum hit
It’s Jack from out the Highlands
Going stupid on these tracks again
I’m moving with a pack of kids and supervising acid trips
Rappers getting worse I think they using too much adjectives
It’s cool though
I’m just a guest inside the house
Of a culture that ain’t mine
And I’m just blessed to be around
These kids be talking bout what’s trash
Man I swear that y’all got some nerve
How you gon be most opinionated from the suburbs
I hope they bump this sh** on Bardstown
With the windows down
Riding round while the stars out
In the garden now, this the wrong tree to bark down
Finally snapping on these hoes and I don’t need no hard count
Damn