(intro)
Yeah, ah yeah
(verse)
What's it take to be as famous as the Biggie's , the Pac's, and the Jay-Z's, the Nas's , and the Drizzy's
Sideline sittin' hope these record labels pick me, tryina keep it slow but keep these b**hes comin' quickly
50-50 shot because this music game is iffy, so they tell you go hard f** the game with a stiffy
b**h I got b**h believe me call me Ripley , got these white girls they thick as hell from Houston like they Whitney
The hollywood scene bout the women and the green, it ain't' nothin what I witness when I'm chillen with my team (uh)
But that sh** is just an arms reach away, as elegant as roses in a bunched up bouquet
Rappers talkin' cake, I'm bout making this soufflé
Once they hear that I got sk**s all they say is touché , who they?
Ain't nobody built like my team, I be the leader of this new cla** , acknowledge I got rhyme scheme
Understand that I got similes that make your lines look stupid
Drive like an Aventador , I'm ruthless
This should hold you down until I drop the tape, I just made this sound for inspiration to pave the way
For any other artist on his grind, clap for this motherf**in' rapper in his prime
Hands down, hold the applause til I get famous
And don't mention I'm the greatest , until I f**in' make it
Haven't dropped a tape in like two years
Haven't dropped a tape cause my vision just got clear
Realized the lime light's a gimmick , I could freestyle but I put the real sh** into my writtens, so listen
Maybe you will catch a glimpse of artistry, keep in mind that being lucky don't mean winning the lottery
And take into consideration what you have and also what you lack
That's how I molded all these songs and made them f**in' tracks
Go head and clap for this artist with his rappin' a**
Blow ya stacks for that stripper with her clappin' a**
Go head and pick out what you want and baby throw it in the bag
I won't talk about no money til' I own myself that Jag, F-type
You lookin like the stressed type, like the type to cry about ya lack of a s** life
Lil' p**y, copy me again
Talkin' sh** out ya mouth like ya face need Depends
Talkin' bout how you wrote ya track before me, get ya life straight
Call yourself a rapper, taking shots but you a lightweight
Hold it down homie , I'm straight
Got some other sh** to say to me homie , I'll wait
That's what I thought, you as stupid as you look
I went a little off topic cause I never put a hook (uh)
But back to me cause nobody else is worth it
I shouldn't waste my breath on a rapper who ain't workin'
And I never said I'm perfect
I'm the type to keep my voice down even when I know for certain
True visionary, surprised I ain't signed yet
Talented and all but I guess it ain't my time yet
f** it ima keep on grinding , until I have my name in bright lights that are blinding
f** it, Ima keep on grindin til I have my name in brights lights that shine
Bring it back