Текст пісні
You see, I came up in the golden era
Studied and watched
Then I made a golden era
Which then inspired a whole new era
Now I'm still here
Still going, still growing
Only getting better (Dramatic, nigga)
I respect these bitches on Instagram selling they pussy
More than I respect you subpar rap niggas, you pussy
Look me in the eyes, don't be surprised it's a trill nigga
Pimp C's fur coat, a Bun B in some Hilfiger
Feel me when I say what I say
I'm the outcast like 3000 Andrés
I will outlast all you niggas rapping today (forever)
When I'm no longer amused by the lies that y'all spray
This for my young boys in line to see NBA
My baddies glued to they phones who never signed the NDA
I turn the daddy issues to tissue, issue short apologies
For single mothers unaware of Afeni's ideologies
Generations full of lost souls, far as I can see
You idolizing the wrong niggas, obviously
So one must mob deep, at least for Prodigy
And my Adidas living out Nas' prophecy (hahaha)
This ain't no Druski skit, this is real life
Put a diamond tester to it, this is real ice
This ain't no brand within a brand, this is Phil Knight
On a fortnight, what you built like?
Bullet wounds, when they heal right
It's that zaza when it's sealed tight
Six-seven, that's how it feel, right?
Can you turn a Insta' baddie into a real wife?
We don't do Nike Tech, we don't do coffee
It's straight quarter zips and matchas around here
Keep going
"Kaboom," said the elephant in the room
My element is black, it's my melanin out the womb
King Tut out the tomb, Cartier's and shit
Hov and X freestyling, that's how my air is mixed
Two light skinned bitches kissing in close friends
Two dark skinned women licking at both ends
Come one, come all and I keep they legs shaking
And you don't need a Rose, how the bass vibrating
She got a pretty face and she high maintenance
Post everything on the 'Gram except the fuck faces
I fold her up like magazine front pages
Lay the second row down and G-wagons get real spacious
Like the monogram, Louis Vuitton, trunk spaces
Puffing behind these bars, the killer sitting where Ma$e is
White chucks turn red when I stomp 'em out
He look like Blueface song, they'll know what I'm talking about (hahaha)
This ain't no Druski skit, this is real life
Put a diamond tester to it, this is real ice
This ain't no brand within a brand, this is Phil Knight
On a fortnight, what you built like?
Bullet wounds, when they heal right
It's that zaza when it's sealed tight
Six-seven, that's how it feel, right?
Can you turn a Insta' baddie into a real wife?