[Hook: Caskey]
Things done changed, word to Biggie Smalls
I'm always on time in my city dog
They ain't fuckin' with me at all
I'm getting' rich and die tryin', man, 50s and all
Kind of, kind of strange, everybody callin'
Because I'm makin' change and I don't know what to call it
They say if you ain't out here ballin'
Then you just another white boy, Alec Baldwin
Yeah, sayin' I'm the best out
But he just blowin' money with the chest out
He ain't just another white boy, Alec Baldwin
Sayin' I'm the best out
If you ain't out here ballin'
But he ain't just another white boy
[Verse 1: Caskey]
Yo money is the concept
So blowin it like it's imaginary, man it's rather scary
I went through like thirty racks in just a month
I ain't tryin' to stunt, that's my boss job
Blew like 15K on weed and the blunts
I come to eat 'em up, appetite for the after life
Spent more money on my folk, that's a sacrifice
In my apartment complex eatin' mac and rice
So I got that call from Cash Money that bought me back to life
I'm back to writin', whole crew been enlightened
You just old news, I'm Pro Tools, Mike Tyson
With a bite license, man these rappers, they ain't shit to me
Swear I don't need to know their name or their history
Visually I’m a psychadelic, acquired relic
All these rappers quite hellish, I think they jealous
Shiit tell 'em embellish in the fruits of your labor
But always share your fruits with your neighbor
They hate on me cause..
Things done changed, word to Biggie Smalls
I'm always on time in my city dog
They ain't fuckin' with me at all
I'm getting' rich and die tryin', man, 50s and all
Kind of, kind of strange, everybody callin'
Because I'm makin' change and I don't know what to call it
They say if you ain't out here ballin'
Then you just another white boy, Alec Baldwin
Yeah, sayin' I'm the best out
But he just blowin' money with the chest out
He ain't just another white boy, Alec Baldwin
Sayin' I'm the best out
If you ain't out here ballin'
But he ain't just another white boy
[Verse 1: Caskey]
Yo money is the concept
So blowin it like it's imaginary, man it's rather scary
I went through like thirty racks in just a month
I ain't tryin' to stunt, that's my boss job
Blew like 15K on weed and the blunts
I come to eat 'em up, appetite for the after life
Spent more money on my folk, that's a sacrifice
In my apartment complex eatin' mac and rice
So I got that call from Cash Money that bought me back to life
I'm back to writin', whole crew been enlightened
You just old news, I'm Pro Tools, Mike Tyson
With a bite license, man these rappers, they ain't shit to me
Swear I don't need to know their name or their history
Visually I’m a psychadelic, acquired relic
All these rappers quite hellish, I think they jealous
Shiit tell 'em embellish in the fruits of your labor
But always share your fruits with your neighbor
They hate on me cause..
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