[Intro]
South by Southwest, y'all ready for Pusha T? Make some noise
I need them hands up, everybody and them hands up
Yeah
Keep them hands up
Bounce, bounce, bounce, let's go
[Verse 1]
This is my time, this is my hour
This is my pain, this is my name, this is my power
If it's my reign, then it's my shower
This pole position, I made a lane 'cause they blocked ours
Dope boys, block bleeders, gold diggers don't stop either
Motivation is misguided, if you hit the mark, then it's not needed
Carry on like a carry on, on my side bitch I let tag along
Call me "daddy" from a complex
'Cause her mother's fucker wouldn't marry mom
No excuses, no regard, step on the brick like a promenade
Twenty thousand on calling cards
And I'm speaking Spanish like Don Omar
[Chorus]
But I'm King Push, this king push
I rap, nigga, 'bout trap niggas, I don't sing hooks
[Verse 2]
Fuck nigga with the sly talk
Miss me with all the pie talk
When them lights on you and them letters there
You point us out just like an eye-chart
But that's my fault, my details of the sidewalk
For eleven years, we seen better years
We was sellin' birds over the time port
My first Grammy was my first brick
Red carpet, every bad bitch
More BMF than Billboard
I got a label deal under my mattress
South by Southwest, y'all ready for Pusha T? Make some noise
I need them hands up, everybody and them hands up
Yeah
Keep them hands up
Bounce, bounce, bounce, let's go
[Verse 1]
This is my time, this is my hour
This is my pain, this is my name, this is my power
If it's my reign, then it's my shower
This pole position, I made a lane 'cause they blocked ours
Dope boys, block bleeders, gold diggers don't stop either
Motivation is misguided, if you hit the mark, then it's not needed
Carry on like a carry on, on my side bitch I let tag along
Call me "daddy" from a complex
'Cause her mother's fucker wouldn't marry mom
No excuses, no regard, step on the brick like a promenade
Twenty thousand on calling cards
And I'm speaking Spanish like Don Omar
[Chorus]
But I'm King Push, this king push
I rap, nigga, 'bout trap niggas, I don't sing hooks
[Verse 2]
Fuck nigga with the sly talk
Miss me with all the pie talk
When them lights on you and them letters there
You point us out just like an eye-chart
But that's my fault, my details of the sidewalk
For eleven years, we seen better years
We was sellin' birds over the time port
My first Grammy was my first brick
Red carpet, every bad bitch
More BMF than Billboard
I got a label deal under my mattress
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