Another singer from the west, three sins later
There’s no game because, pushdown
They look at me wrong and treat me well
Didn’t see a “Merry Christmas” from anyone, hanging on 166
I got big, suck it up, ah, detaching myself
Doping myself on a beat, arming myself with real G’s
For the mind there’s a PIN, they want to know about me, stop
I toast to you, to me, mom, dad, and two, three jackals
BW almost in my veins, bro, before the fame
Millo before the twenties and if one day I have a Bentley
It won’t be rented, I earned it
For luxury, for Fendi, bottles and confetti
There was once thirst, there was a reason
There was plan B, but I didn’t like it
I wanted to eat, not live like a boss (Uh)
But in this life it played out, my soul rewarded itself for all that it traversed alone
The psychologist recommended that I slow down thirty gears because I live at x2
That I seemed appointed by the boss and I wasn’t talking about God
It’s not ego, but who’s like me? Who’s like me? Who’s like me?
(Screw your mother) Yeah, he says
Another singer from the west, three sins later
There’s no game because, pushdown
They look at me wrong and treat me well
Didn’t see a “Merry Christmas” from anyone, hanging on 166
I got big, suck it up, ah, detaching myself
Another singer from the—
Ah-ah, ah-ah, ah
Another singer from the—
Ah-ah, ah-ah, ah (Sike!)
Another singer from the—
Ah-ah, ah-ah, ah
Another singer from the—
Ah-ah, ah-ah, ah