Boys, now listen, we got more motherf**kin' TV screens on the outside the damn tour bus than on that motherf**ker.Boys playin' Playstation we come through motherf**kin' hang gliding off motherf**kin' Versace skyscrapers.I don't get it, what more can you ask for?Yeah, sound sound soundReal 6 side sh*tSickos, ah manYeah, when you get to where I'm atYou gotta remind 'em where the f**k you atEvery time they talkin' it's behind your backGotta learn to line 'em up and then attackThey gone say your name on them airwavesThey gone hit you up right after like it's only rapJewels look like I found a motherf**kin' treasure mapAnd ain't told no one where the f**k it's atShout out to the G's from the endsWe don't love no girls from the endsI'm gone hit 'em with the wham once againI'mma always end up as a man at the end, dogIt's just apparent every yearOnly see the truth when I'm staring in the mirrorLookin' at myself like there it is thereYea, like there it is there man, whoopI ain't tryna chance itI be with the bands like a ni**a went to Jackson State or GramblingYoung Nick Cannon with the snare drum, dancin'Watch the way I handle itBring it to the bedroom, you know that sh*t is candle litShe know I'm the man with it, uhWith the bands like I must've went to Clark, went to HamptonI ain't playin' with itI ain't felt the pressure in a little whileIt's gonna take some getting used toFloatin' all through the city with the windows downPuttin' on like I used toThey never told me when you get the crownIt's gone take some getting used toNew friends all in their old feelings nowThey don't love you like they used to manWhen you get to where the f**k I'm atYou gotta remind 'em about where you beenAbout all of the money that done came and wentAbout the two cents I ain't never spentWhen they say you're too famous to pack a gatI gotta remind 'em about where I'm fromNot about where I'm going, about where I've goneSteppin' on to squish a roach like a steppin' stoneGoin' at a ni**a throat like a herringboneBoy do I smell beef? Mmmm pheromonesGot a f**kin' halo over my devil hornsTrap pumpin' all night like ChevronSuck a ni**a dick for an iPhone 6F**k my ni**a Terry for a new BlackberryYou can buried for an ounce of Katy PerryI was only five but still remember the drought in '87Lord tell 'em b**ches I ain't got no time to play games with 'emI ain't got no timeTell her that I love her and I hate her in the same sentenceI'm f**kin' her mindI got, mind control over DeeboParmesan my paninoPromethazine over PinotAnd when my blood start shootin' that's B-roll b**chI ain't felt the pressure in a little whileIt's gonna take some getting used toFloatin' all through the city with the windows downPuttin' on like I used toThey never told me when you get the crownIt's gone take some getting used toNew friends all in their old feelings nowThey don't love you like they used to manLet's just let bygones be bygones, okay?Let's just go ahead and just let bygones be bygonesI pull up lookin' like a damn cyborg, weighin' 224Oh man, these boys don't even understandListen when you see OVO Jodi pull up on the scene with DrakeFor goodness sakes, well for goodness sakesYou see this mixtape you listenin' to? This an albumYea, we could have, we could have sold it to you for 17.99 or 29.99 with the shirt, buy it at the TargetThese motherf**kers trippin' so hard I had to look down and double check cause I thought they had their shoes tied togetherMotherf**kers got they shoes tied togetherWhat more could you ask for?Boys harassing me with these questionsHow about this?How about don't ask me know more motherf**king questions, we ain't doing no interview
Used To (Remix)
Used To (Remix)