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作词 : Lil Tjay/Tomislav Ratesic/Esmerlyn Toribio |
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作曲 : Lil Tjay/Tomislav Ratesic/Esmerlyn Toribio |
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Eight (hold on) |
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'Bout the wait |
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Bein' in the hood with no escape |
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Learned from my mistakes |
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Sentence on cases |
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Back when I was five years old, |
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I knew that I was gon' be great |
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I found my gift for music back around the age of eight |
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I knew I'd be successful, it was more about the wait |
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So unacceptable as being in the hood with no escape |
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My mama taught me right but I just learned from my mistakes |
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Started washing up the day I caught a sentence on the case |
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Hunger pains shaped me to the way I am today |
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I gotta live with it, feelings that won't ever go away |
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Not every day I pray, but that ain't nothing cute to say |
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The money good, but how I know my boys is finna stay? |
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Put my all into this music, I ain't make it here to play |
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Came a long way from booking b*****s, me and Trigga Trey |
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Okay, I'm just tryna shed a little bit of light |
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And motivate them kids who haven't found they way in life |
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Remember I ain't have nowhere to lay my head at night |
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Trappin' on the block, I was sellin' weed and dirty Sprite |
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Don't wait until you hurtin' 'fore you choose to pray to Christ |
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Shooter on my package, you ever see me on them bikes |
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Still be in my hood, I'm comin' up, I'm playin' dice |
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I earned my stripes so I walk around my city like shit nic |
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On God, I wish I could make sure everybody eat |
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Red bottoms drippin' off of everybody feet |
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Hard feelings, I be thinking everybody keep |
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And I'm workin' hard, I be up while everybody sleep |
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Asthma acting up, **** it, I don't really care |
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Still spittin' bars while I'm wheezing for some air |
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Pocket hold a deuce, and yeah, it's small, I'm well aware |
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When it flare, hit your melon, bet your salsa hit the air |
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VVS's diamonds on me, reason why they stare |
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Youngest out the city, reason I don't really care |
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AN on my body, best believe I'm well aware |
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Quarter milli' on the 'Gram, lil' boy, you're nowhere near |
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Flexed up, just was next up, now I'm up now |
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Down to Earth, true to all my fans, I could touch ground |
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Run up on me thinkin' I don't got it, you get pumped down |
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Bustdown, glizzy in my pocket, stupid b***h |
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No security, 18, I don't think they hearing me |
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Apparently niggas ain't real, shit be scaring me |
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I'm glizzied up, got that glizzy tucked, why they fearing me? |
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Rap niggas try to throw shade, why he daring me? |
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18, got a clean record thanks to YO |
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Your b***h, she swallow |
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You feel a way, then catch a hollow |
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And hits really nothin', we don't really care for five-o |
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I been doin' this shit, as a kid I was nine-o |
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But they don't really know that, somethin' like a throwback |
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Tryna clean the image up so I don't wanna show that |
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Headed to the top, I ain't never tryna go back |
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Signs you see me throwin' up, they nothin' like a zodiac |
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**** the other side, see my enemies, they can hold that |
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Showin' off them pistols, I ain't never seen you blow that |
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Smelly hella proud and the opps already know that |
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If y'all want me gone, |
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Why don't you come and pull up where a show at? |
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No cap |
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No cap (niggas already know I was gon' make it) |
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Man, she know I was gon' make it |
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You know I was gon' make it, yeah |
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I can talk my, my stuff now |
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'Cause we out here |
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No, yeah, you act tough inside the school |
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And out here, look at you today, yeah, quiet |
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Remember sellin' white up on the block |
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Tryna make some knots |
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D's try to run up in the spot |
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Me and Smelly sittin' in the trap |
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Smokin' on the pack |
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Wrong crib, all you smell is crack |
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And I done put my trenches onto rap |
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I wish I could go back |
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To August 14th to be exact |
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That's when my nigga Smelly would be her |
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Trauma so severe |
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I had to watch him crying out for air |
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Bet he's in the air, make me cough |
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Spinnin' through the fourth |
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Catch an opp, I'm finna take him off |
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And I call the shots, I'm a boss |
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Skinny version Ross |
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Dummy in the air, take a loss |
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Y'all niggas gon' get me caught up, man |
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Got me talkin' hot and shit, man |
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Niggas know my body though |
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SB the **** up, gang |
