Текст пісні
N3rd in the cut
D.Hurt on the keys
We 'bout to fuck 'em up
Yeah
Take three
Y'all niggas lazy actors with no direction, get Scorsese
I got the GPS, we doing 80
And I'm on my way to the Major Leagues
Home runs when they spraying the piece
Bag runs, run away from police
I can't ever lose the pace in the streets
So I don't participate in the beef
Niggas be acting like they could compete
They lacking as artists, though, they incomplete
Steph, what I chеf, I got range on a beat
And I go crazy, derangеd on the beat
Summer thunder, I'ma reign with this heat
Boxed yourself in, now you stay in your niche
I ain't in a niche 'cause I'm way too unique
Nerd that ain't shy, girl, I cater to freaks
Fruits of my labor, I play in the peach
Women swear I got a way with the speech
I'ma show off since they base it off feats
Lucid living, I'm awake and asleep
Living my dreams, that's the way it should be
Every day that I live is a day I believe
That I gotta make it, they won't make it for me
Brooklyn born, where we take what we need
'Cause nobody ever played the savior to me
Tricks to the trade, had to stay up my sleeves
Now y'all need favors all day nigga, please
I was depressed, steady blazing the trees
Could count on one hand who was waving to me
In the trenches when I ain't get paid 'til next week
But the next week, them niggas still came through to chief
Can't control when they alter their ways, so delete 'em
And they saying they made me
But they can't duplicate me
So they just imitate me
But they just ain't me
That's why they hate me
They be saying they made me
But they can't duplicate me
So they just imitate me
But they just ain't me
That's why they hate me
They be saying they made me