Lyrics
Yeah, somebody on
Somebody hit me today and they were like
"Nah, just make sure, you know
You tell me what to do when I get there, you know?"
(June, you're a genius)
I said, I respect it, no problem
I got all these blessings just to give it to others anyway
Know what I'm sayin'?
Yeah
My hand's always open, for real

Ayy, thirty-three years, I gave that to the game
Thirty-three mil, I save that for the ring
Five hundred weeks, I fill the charts with my pain
Five hundred mil and I fall back in the 6ix
Finally give you niggas the space you need to exist
Michael Jackson shit, but the palace is not for kids
Still women sayin' it's childish the way we live
Brought a few Ws to the 6ix
Baby mama fluke, but I love her for who she is
Baby, Wayne and Tez responsible for this shit
Half the time, I question my consciousness in this shit
Other times, I question if compliments are legit
Full-time, I'm out here, confident as a bitch
Tryna make good on the promises that I give
Tryna make sure my accomplices are legit
Register the business in my brother's name
Thirty-five hunnid in the pocket, that should cover things
Certified loverman, trappin' out the motherland
Always move right, so my watch is on the other hand
She can try and play it down now, but she was a fan
People wanna know what's in my pockets, they don't understand
My assistant always findin' Percocet and rubber bands
Know my mom might not want to hear how I discover plans
Word to Sandra Graham, no one love you like your mother can
I watched Michael Rubin win a million off a couple hands
I decide what to see next like it's on demand
I decide what to be next like I'm switchin' plans
I'ma tell you what you feel next like the weatherman
I will split heads and break necks for my little man
6 God, praying hands like I'm a religious man
But I'm just a sicker man, wicked man
Look, we can argue back and forth, but who's the richer man?
Isn't that what matters in this world that we livin' in?
Bang those dividends, snakes stay slitherin'
How you plan to make it to the top by just fittin' it?
How you plan to take a nigga's spot by just givin' in?
How you gon' treat this shit like you gon' get to live again?
How you gettin' hype off one hit? Do that shit again
How you got a manager you met after you got the win?
Bet you got some niggas that'll love you to the bitter end
Bet you got somebody that's just smarter than your other friends
Give 'em a percentage, see what happens to your blessings then
You just need to stay close to your people
That was there when others could've been
Then when others should've been
Got a nigga starin' at the game like, "damn coach, put him in"
But you never listen, so you niggas going wood again
Got us in the crib, talkin' 'bout what niggas coulda been, shoulda been
And I got your girl on the second floor, beggin' me to put it in
And it's not because all of the money that you wouldn't spend
And it's not because I set it up to try and get revenge
It's because you niggas insecure, you ain't made men
It's because, even though you hate on me, we stay friends
It's because you niggas never learn when to say when, yeah

For real
Facts, you know what I'm sayin'
Yeah

Copyright: Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group
Writer(s): Alonzo Thornhill, Anthony Costley, Aubrey Drake Graham, Douglas B. Gibbs, June James, Ralph R. Johnson




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