[Verse 1: Joey Bada$$]
Uh, they say I'm criminally underrated
Top five? Nah, more like the fuckin’ greatest
Can't compare me to nobody
Get slow bodied, the flow got it
They speak up on the kid so highly
How the fuck did this nigga doubt me?
We could go there, we could talk about it
Ask you niggas where you fuckin' found me
I’ll go cash a check and then I catch a body
I'll go kill a rapper, then I rap about it
I'm a beast, got the whole Flatbush behind me, we deep
How the whole team is elite?
How? Bitch, don't you act like you don't know
I got to get to the, get to the dough
[Verse 2: Meechy Darko]
I really hope you get everything you prayin' for
Even if that thing you prayin' for my downfall
Amen, hallelujah
I say I'm number one, you say delusional
Woke up like fuck that humble shit, I’m on my rumble shit
Winners talk about winnin’, losers talk about other shit
You never get what you deserve, just what you negotiate
You want the bag, I want the safe
Click-clack, nobody safe
Clap, you look like fashion and my verses be like rappin' class
I’m on the highway to Hell, I count my sins, then laugh and crash
Acid God, stuffed a hundred grams inside the sandwich bag
Money knots, so fat it's bustin' through the rubber bands
Uh, they say I'm criminally underrated
Top five? Nah, more like the fuckin’ greatest
Can't compare me to nobody
Get slow bodied, the flow got it
They speak up on the kid so highly
How the fuck did this nigga doubt me?
We could go there, we could talk about it
Ask you niggas where you fuckin' found me
I’ll go cash a check and then I catch a body
I'll go kill a rapper, then I rap about it
I'm a beast, got the whole Flatbush behind me, we deep
How the whole team is elite?
How? Bitch, don't you act like you don't know
I got to get to the, get to the dough
[Verse 2: Meechy Darko]
I really hope you get everything you prayin' for
Even if that thing you prayin' for my downfall
Amen, hallelujah
I say I'm number one, you say delusional
Woke up like fuck that humble shit, I’m on my rumble shit
Winners talk about winnin’, losers talk about other shit
You never get what you deserve, just what you negotiate
You want the bag, I want the safe
Click-clack, nobody safe
Clap, you look like fashion and my verses be like rappin' class
I’m on the highway to Hell, I count my sins, then laugh and crash
Acid God, stuffed a hundred grams inside the sandwich bag
Money knots, so fat it's bustin' through the rubber bands
Comments (0)
The minimum comment length is 50 characters.