CORRECT LYRICS
Lyrics : Middlechild Freestyle
Uh
They say I'm the man, what can I say?
That's prolly why shawty all up in my face
24/7, I get to that cake
More money, more power, my n***as is straight
I hopped off the road, jumped in the backseat of that Rolls, the world in my lap
These n***as need beats, these n***as need writers, these n***as want features, these n***as is wack
I'm all in my bag, shoutout to Chill
Shoutout to Lupe, shoutout for real
Know that's for real, got offered a deal while in jail
I swear man, that sh*t was surreal
I f**k with you [?] the mister is back
Young Grey Lou is how I get to that sack
I'm different from cats, you n***as is [?]
You know who I am, I was up in that trap
Cookin' that crack, tryna get back what I spent
Weavin' through traffic with Flip, now I put on for the city that raised me, and all of my dawgs I left back in the pen
No matter to me, when they call me I got 'em
Whether it's sendin' 'em cash or some flicks of a bad b*t*h with an ass like a blimp
I'm fresh off the plane, gettin' back from a trip
Paid a grit for the jeans, man [?]
These n***as ain't real as they seem
b*t*h, I'm a king, that thing on my hip is a king and my chick from Atlanta's a dream
f**k do you mean? Green I be gettin'
Y'all n***as trippin', all in the way
Legit on the way, Millyon Dollar Vision
We ain't the same, I'm sure you see the difference, b*t*h
They say I'm the man, what can I say?
That's prolly why shawty all up in my face
24/7, I get to that cake
More money, more power, my n***as is straight
I hopped off the road, jumped in the backseat of that Rolls, the world in my lap
These n***as need beats, these n***as need writers, these n***as want features, these n***as is wack
I'm all in my bag, shoutout to Chill
Shoutout to Lupe, shoutout for real
Know that's for real, got offered a deal while in jail
I swear man, that sh*t was surreal
I f**k with you [?] the mister is back
Young Grey Lou is how I get to that sack
I'm different from cats, you n***as is [?]
You know who I am, I was up in that trap
Cookin' that crack, tryna get back what I spent
Weavin' through traffic with Flip, now I put on for the city that raised me, and all of my dawgs I left back in the pen
No matter to me, when they call me I got 'em
Whether it's sendin' 'em cash or some flicks of a bad b*t*h with an ass like a blimp
I'm fresh off the plane, gettin' back from a trip
Paid a grit for the jeans, man [?]
These n***as ain't real as they seem
b*t*h, I'm a king, that thing on my hip is a king and my chick from Atlanta's a dream
f**k do you mean? Green I be gettin'
Y'all n***as trippin', all in the way
Legit on the way, Millyon Dollar Vision
We ain't the same, I'm sure you see the difference, b*t*h
