Shout out to Yung L./That dirty sprite I’m drinking is making it hard to spell./Truth is I don’t think I was meant to do 32 but I looked at Ice and said f**k it, I might as well.
If I hear am say Erigga no blow dis year./ This album na major key, Baba God hold the spare./Rappers dey social media dey form Evans./Hold dem for backstage, blow their eye join their Ray Bans.
Unlike a Bishop, you can’t limit where a King can go./You see my mission is still solving all my problems./ I just want my only problem to be whether I should rent or own.
I am not trying to be Lyricist on the Roll, you can keep that./I rather be one on the pay roll,cos I need green,might fall in love with a florist./I’m from a broken home so I’m trying to refurbish./By telling my truth, I hope to better myself./That’s why I stepped up and mastered the flow like Michael Phelps.
B*tch be humble, sit down, all my ni**as be the wildest./cause I swear my money grown but Milli got me feeling childish./Let’s ball on these b*tches, Milli tell me when./They thought that we had beef but we right back like Hector Bellerin./Table issues, periodically, I’m in my element./If you don’t share the sentiment, then f*ck you ni**a cause we out here flexin’.
I’m Mr Fantastic and summer due./I’m loving the game and very soon we gon get a room./So I can show you what the song’s about./Phony rappers see me for their back then we can talk it out./Every bar is burglar proof,if we move, we dey lock the house./I’m kicking down the door, I flip the gate, I’m laying on your couch, like what now./I don’t mean to break a Kevin H(e)art, but I’m killing this art.
I don’t base on those occasions, switch up, we changing locations./You no speed pass Lewis Hamilton, tune in, don’t change the station./Get the formula, one, cos I’ve been number two since I was three years old, or was in way back in my mother’s womb./Every track is hotter than your summer tools.
And you know as e dey go./Shawty digging me and I know she a ho*./Gold medal for the jaw, yea I know that she a pro./Everybody dropping banger, but no be everyone dey blow.
So I can let the money go, then I can bring it back one time./ Who wan try to breach the contract Baba God don sign?/Nothing pon the wrist, but they don’t even tell time./On the road to riches, all you see is thug signs.
I tell the DJ, kill it and bring it back joor./A girl could swim and dabble in my lap bro./Shut her down like she was a laptop./Make her see stars like she typing in her password.