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LYRICS
[Chorus]
Tell you somethin, this ain’t luck I’m bonafide
You shoot it down, oh well at least a n**** tried
2 fingers up we push that bulls*** to the side
This ain’t enough, we going up, you tryna slide?
Tell you somethin, this ain’t luck I’m bonafide (Bonafide)
You shoot it down, oh well at least a n**** tried (A n**** tried)
2 fingers up we push that bulls*** to the side (To the side)
This ain’t enough, we going up, you tryna slide?
[Post]
All my n**** bout it, talkin’ bout we catching vibes
Last time I checked I’m earning millions off of mine
Sell my soul to someone on this earth, I rather starve
Armani suit, lit cigar, Bottega boot
The smells of gasoline’ll fill the booth, Future Proof
Marni suit, lit cigar, Bottega boot
The smells of gasoline, fill the booth, Future Proof
[Verse 1]
I’m bout to link my n**** , and they know me, man I never cared
But they got the good speakers, and you can smoke in here
You play your politicians, you be snitching like you Paul Revere
Man I love this rapping s*** , I hope you never disappear
I was still a kid, I pulled my first rhymes from thin air
Skinny n****, but believe that Biggie really brought me here
Inspired by The Foo Fighters, if you quit, then you tired
And you liars, could get a whole drum, and a new wire
Theres blood in my hands,
The wrong n**** to get caught in a jam with
I don’t understand how we can defeat this famine, too many starving
Untap these ruthless artists, dispelled the Reganomics
Too much champagne make you vomit
I’m at the peak, funny rappers at my feet
Only accurate if you can say you mastered what you teach
How I break bread, make sure them killas always stay fed
Patience, brought me up the ladder where we shake hands
8 grand, easy money foreign touching fake fans
Expand, sit on dirty money, you won’t stand a chance, in my lane
The octane, blood in my hands mostly
Only became associates when they hesitated to toast me
They moving closely, they motives salty
The game encroached me, stand on my own feet
The angels watching over
I was designed to make a meal now my cup is spilling over
[Post]
All my n**** bout it, talkin’ bout we catching vibes
Last time I checked I’m earning millions off of mine
Sell my soul to someone on this earth, I rather starve
Armani suit, lit cigar, Bottega boot
The smells of gasoline’ll fill the booth, Future Proof
Marni suit, lit cigar, Bottega boot
The smells of gasoline, fill the booth, Future Proof

#ErickTheArchitect #IveNeverBeenHereBefore #Mandevillain