TRUTH.

Student loans got me fucked up

Credit score low as fuck, shit might get me locked up

My rent overpriced

And my mama on the line

Screaming fuck this music shit, boy it's time to get a job

I just landed in New York with my woes

Hundred dollars to my name

And a pocket of goals

Dreams of the tours

Supermodels by the door

But how much the whip cost is what they really wanna know

Damn

Thought I'd make it big by 26 or 27

Maybe die a legend by the time I'm 87

Thought I'd make a mil by 31 or 32

Buy the latest coupe and buy my mama Jimmy Choo

But now I'm in a hotel

Lonely by my old self

Put it in the music

I just hope this record gon' sell

Hollywood folk tale

We all know it so well

Hello

The taxman calling

Billman calling

Rent man calling

Your bitch still calling

Them hits ain't calling

Still I'm on a mission for the team

I got like 20 million on the streams

Don't get it twisted

I'm still popping on the scene

Do I sign this record deal?

I'm staying indie for the win

Damn, goddamn

And the whole world watching

They all know about it

They're trying to see about it

And cosign somebody

Just one hit record, I could probably be somebody

The fans still love him

And the masses still underrate him

And the people still confused on where he from

They say he from Canada

Then he from South Africa

Then from the Congo

Where this nigga from though?

Hit 'em with the bongos

Serve 'em on a plateau

PTA pianos

Add a little Franco

Soul sample pronto

New York to Chicago

Or take 'em to Toronto

The taxman calling

Billman calling

Rent man calling

Your bitch still calling

Them hits ain't calling