I sold more dope than I sold records
You n***as sold records, never sold dope
So I ain't hearing none of that street sh**
'Cause in my mind, you motherf**ers sold soap
Got rich selling hope to the hopeless
But I'm a thinker, methodic in my motives
I motivate to put my n***as into motors
No woman, no child, no witness, no Jehovahs
Like Scarface but it's God's face in that mirror
We was made in his image, dialing and it's much clearer
Scoring from the heights but I wanted mine purer
Aryan, blonde hair, blue-eyed like the Führer
The judge and the jury, the j**ellery mad froze
Watercolors on my neck, f** rhyming when you blinding n***as
We ain't the same color clarity of diamond, n***a
Nah, I ain't got nothing in common with yous
Pain in my heart, it's as black as my skin
They tipping the scale for these crackers to win
No reading, no writing, made us savage of men
They praying for jail but I mastered the pen
Descended from kings, we at it again
Just hand me the crown, I'm active again
Everything that it seems, hear my pa**ion again
Was never my dream, the immaculate win
Rick Ross:
I was pissing my shorts having rich n***a thoughts
Wish I had a pistol before all the friends I done fought
Over night I seen a n***a go get a Carrera
Two weeks later I had to be that boy pallbearer
Young king bury me inside a gla** casket
Windex wipe me down for the life after
Crack dealer living like a hoop star
Black marble, white walls in my new spot
Four chains, big studs, a n***a too fly
Top down, tank top, I think I'm 2Pac
So I'm labeled the rebel, n***a get on my level
We were born to be kings, only major league teams
Chasing my paper, couldn't fathom my wealth
Built a school in Ethiopia, should enroll in myself
God body and mind, food for the soul
When you feeding on hate, you empty, my n***a, it shows
Follow the codes, ain't no love for these hoes
If you slip and you fall, I got you my n***a, hold on
If you right or you wrong, if you riding come on
By the end of this song, can't be hiding for long
I seen children get slaughtered, n***as' grandmothers a**aulted
Throw a gang sign, dare you do something about it
f** copping them foams, when you copping the home
Cop a kilo and have them people on top of your home
Follow the codes, ain't no love for these hoes
If you slipping you fall, I got you, my n***a, hold on
If you right or you wrong, if you riding come on
By the end of this song, I got you, my n***a, hold on
Pusha T and Rick Ross:
I got you, my n***a, hold on
(I got you, my n***a, hold on)
If you right or you wrong, if you riding come on
By the end of this song, I got you, my n***a, hold on
Rick Ross:
I got you, my n***a, hold on
I got you, my n***a, hold on
I got you, my n***a, hold on
I got you, my n***a, hold on