(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