Young ian
Seems like you got the whole industry waitin' for this motherf*cker to drop
They leakin' songs and shit
You motherf*ckers don't even know that's the old joints
This the coldest motherf*cker I done seen in a long time
Dress white as hell though, haha
F*ckin' rich-ass prick, haha
I don't think you motherf*ckers ready for this one
Without further ado
I bring to you, Valedictorian
This shit 'bout to be insane, it's time, baby
Ian - Valedictorian Album Lyrics
Ian - Valedictorian Lyrics
Writer: Asmil Rodriguez, Dallas Sessoms, Ian Smith, Robert Avery
Copyright: Lyrics © Distrokid
Copyright: Lyrics © Distrokid
Never Stop
(Private motherf*ckin' flight, ya dig?)
I know it's some haters in here
I see y'all way in the back over there (haha, what the f-?)
Y'all need some water? Y'all aight? I know it's hard work
I know y'all paid to get in here for the show
You just gotta trust what's goin' on inside yo' gut (what's goin' on, what's goin' on)
'Cause they gon' try to tell you it's a problem when it's not, huh (they gon, they gon' try to tell you)
Boy, go ahead and take it, if you want it, never stop, huh (boy, go ahead and get it)
So much dirty money, I need hand sanitizer, huh (oh, it's Holiday season)
Cruise in this Phantom with the suicidal doors
Half a million dollar carpet, leave yo' shoes at the door, huh
I miss when we would talk about what's new between us both, huh
It's Mr. Spend-That-Money, I don't care about the price, huh
I'm gon' keep on puffin' 'til I'm damn near paralyzed, huh
You upset for nothin', bitch, I could not care less, huh (bitch, I do not give a f*ck)
I'm drivin' crazy 'cause I damn near failed my test, huh
You got zero paper, you should get up off yo' ass, huh
"ian, you gon' beat 'em, you remember how they treat ya?" Huh (you remember what they did)
Fully flooded bezel, it's December every season, huh (it's the motherf*ckin')
Open up that kennel, my big dog'll come and see ya (ooh, ooh, ooh)
Four-hundred on this brand new Huracan, Lamborghini (Holiday season, ayy)
I'm gettin' money, but I cannot pay 'em mind, that's how they get ya
The problem is, bitch, I cannot read yo' mind 'bout myself
Diamond wrist, I can't even tell the time of the day
Tom Brady, I'ma throw a f*ckin' bomb down the field, huh
I'm a bag-chasin' monster for real (I'ma chase a f*ckin' bag)
Huh, me and bands stuck together (me and, me and, me and, me and)
I'm the type to hit that ho and then forget it, huh (I'm the type to hit that, hit that)
F*ck, I guess that I could manage a mil'
You just gotta trust what's goin' on inside yo' gut (what's goin' on, what's goin' on)
'Cause they gon' try to tell you it's a problem when it's not, huh (they gon, they gon' try to tell you)
Boy, go ahead and take it, if you want it, never stop, huh (boy, go ahead and get it)
So much dirty money, I need hand sanitizer, huh
Cruise in this Phantom with the suicidal doors
Half a million dollar carpet, leave yo' shoes at the door, huh
I miss when we would talk about what's new between us both, huh
It's Mr. Spend-That-Money, I don't care about the price, huh
I'm gon' keep on puffin' 'til I'm damn near paralyzed, huh
You upset for nothin', bitch, I could not care less, huh (bitch, I could not give a f*ck)
I'm drivin' crazy 'cause I damn near failed my test, huh
You got zero paper, you should get up off yo' ass
I know it's some haters in here
I see y'all way in the back over there (haha, what the f-?)
Y'all need some water? Y'all aight? I know it's hard work
I know y'all paid to get in here for the show
You just gotta trust what's goin' on inside yo' gut (what's goin' on, what's goin' on)
'Cause they gon' try to tell you it's a problem when it's not, huh (they gon, they gon' try to tell you)
Boy, go ahead and take it, if you want it, never stop, huh (boy, go ahead and get it)
So much dirty money, I need hand sanitizer, huh (oh, it's Holiday season)
Cruise in this Phantom with the suicidal doors
Half a million dollar carpet, leave yo' shoes at the door, huh
I miss when we would talk about what's new between us both, huh
It's Mr. Spend-That-Money, I don't care about the price, huh
I'm gon' keep on puffin' 'til I'm damn near paralyzed, huh
You upset for nothin', bitch, I could not care less, huh (bitch, I do not give a f*ck)
I'm drivin' crazy 'cause I damn near failed my test, huh
You got zero paper, you should get up off yo' ass, huh
"ian, you gon' beat 'em, you remember how they treat ya?" Huh (you remember what they did)
Fully flooded bezel, it's December every season, huh (it's the motherf*ckin')
Open up that kennel, my big dog'll come and see ya (ooh, ooh, ooh)
Four-hundred on this brand new Huracan, Lamborghini (Holiday season, ayy)
I'm gettin' money, but I cannot pay 'em mind, that's how they get ya
The problem is, bitch, I cannot read yo' mind 'bout myself
Diamond wrist, I can't even tell the time of the day
Tom Brady, I'ma throw a f*ckin' bomb down the field, huh
I'm a bag-chasin' monster for real (I'ma chase a f*ckin' bag)
Huh, me and bands stuck together (me and, me and, me and, me and)
I'm the type to hit that ho and then forget it, huh (I'm the type to hit that, hit that)
F*ck, I guess that I could manage a mil'
You just gotta trust what's goin' on inside yo' gut (what's goin' on, what's goin' on)
'Cause they gon' try to tell you it's a problem when it's not, huh (they gon, they gon' try to tell you)
Boy, go ahead and take it, if you want it, never stop, huh (boy, go ahead and get it)
So much dirty money, I need hand sanitizer, huh
Cruise in this Phantom with the suicidal doors
Half a million dollar carpet, leave yo' shoes at the door, huh
I miss when we would talk about what's new between us both, huh
It's Mr. Spend-That-Money, I don't care about the price, huh
I'm gon' keep on puffin' 'til I'm damn near paralyzed, huh
You upset for nothin', bitch, I could not care less, huh (bitch, I could not give a f*ck)
I'm drivin' crazy 'cause I damn near failed my test, huh
You got zero paper, you should get up off yo' ass
Writer: Asmil Rodriguez, Ian Smith
Copyright: Lyrics © Distrokid
Copyright: Lyrics © Distrokid
Bentayga
Huh, huh, huh
Yeah, yeah (haha, what the f-?)
Huh, huh, huh, huh (oh, it's Holiday season)
Huh, huh, huh
Yeah, yeah (haha, what the f-? Haha, what the f-?)
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Huh, huh, huh (We working, you're watching)
Bentley Bentayga with the Forgi-A's on, huh
I'm gon' maintain it, I can't make no friends, none, huh
I'm Usain runnin', way I chase the bag down
Shit, I'm flyin' towards the paper like my life depend on it, huh (Holiday season, ayy)
Fast cars, lunatics, JanSport to Louis V
Fast money, stupid shit, the Devil tryna get through to me, huh
Scary, 'cause I feel like something wrong but don't know who to tell, huh
Yesterday, I swear we had it goin', but we both know what's best
Boy, you need to make somethin' happen, the paper ain't makin' itself
I got some bad ass habits, but I'm gettin' fat ass checks, huh
"ian, you're cashin' out," bitch, we done established that
No, we is not friends at all, soon as I get to that bag, I'm out, huh
Who was you laughin' at? Huh, and who is it laughin' now?
Huh, how can I go back to that? F*ck it, I'm movin' past it all
Uh, I ain't drivin' your average car, buddy, this is an Aston Martin
Damn, I'on feel like I'm askin' much, baby, I need you to hear me, uh
Finna chase this bag so hard, might f*ck around, pull my hammy
I'm finna hold my head up high, but how long can I manage?
Uh, and I'ma keep prayin' to God 'cause I got nothin' else
Uh, I'm hopin' you stayin' the night 'cause we got somethin' special
Bentley Bentayga with the Forgi-A's on, huh
I'm gon' maintain it, I can't make no friends, none, huh
I'm Usain runnin', way I chase the bag down
Shit, I'm flyin' towards the paper like my life depend on it, huh
Fa-fast cars, lunatics, JanSport to Louis V
Fast money, stupid shit, the Devil tryna get through to me, huh
Scary, 'cause I feel like something wrong but don't know who to tell, huh
Yesterday, I swear we had it goin', but we both know what's best
Yeah, yeah (haha, what the f-?)
Huh, huh, huh, huh (oh, it's Holiday season)
Huh, huh, huh
Yeah, yeah (haha, what the f-? Haha, what the f-?)
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Huh, huh, huh (We working, you're watching)
Bentley Bentayga with the Forgi-A's on, huh
I'm gon' maintain it, I can't make no friends, none, huh
I'm Usain runnin', way I chase the bag down
Shit, I'm flyin' towards the paper like my life depend on it, huh (Holiday season, ayy)
Fast cars, lunatics, JanSport to Louis V
Fast money, stupid shit, the Devil tryna get through to me, huh
Scary, 'cause I feel like something wrong but don't know who to tell, huh
Yesterday, I swear we had it goin', but we both know what's best
Boy, you need to make somethin' happen, the paper ain't makin' itself
I got some bad ass habits, but I'm gettin' fat ass checks, huh
"ian, you're cashin' out," bitch, we done established that
No, we is not friends at all, soon as I get to that bag, I'm out, huh
Who was you laughin' at? Huh, and who is it laughin' now?
Huh, how can I go back to that? F*ck it, I'm movin' past it all
Uh, I ain't drivin' your average car, buddy, this is an Aston Martin
Damn, I'on feel like I'm askin' much, baby, I need you to hear me, uh
Finna chase this bag so hard, might f*ck around, pull my hammy
I'm finna hold my head up high, but how long can I manage?
Uh, and I'ma keep prayin' to God 'cause I got nothin' else
Uh, I'm hopin' you stayin' the night 'cause we got somethin' special
Bentley Bentayga with the Forgi-A's on, huh
I'm gon' maintain it, I can't make no friends, none, huh
I'm Usain runnin', way I chase the bag down
Shit, I'm flyin' towards the paper like my life depend on it, huh
Fa-fast cars, lunatics, JanSport to Louis V
Fast money, stupid shit, the Devil tryna get through to me, huh
Scary, 'cause I feel like something wrong but don't know who to tell, huh
Yesterday, I swear we had it goin', but we both know what's best
Writer: Asmil Rodriguez, Ian Smith
Copyright: Lyrics © Distrokid
Copyright: Lyrics © Distrokid
AirBnb
(Haha, what the f-?)
All that tough talk just not scary to me
That is not your house, that's an AirBnB, huh
Blow a couple thou', it's like therapy for me (haha, what the f-?)
Appearing with yo' ass, that's a charity event, damn, damn
Ain't shit to throw some cash on your brodie head, damn
I'm mad as hell, there's ash on my Bode pants, damn
I might throw this ho a bag if she show me somethin', damn
They keep tryna hold me down, but they can't get it done
I had it finished up, baby, you ain't missin' much
I just went through yo' months rent and ate that shit for lunch
She blowin' up my contact, come get yo' bae before
I fly her out to Palm Springs and separate you both
Just did my dishes in six-hundred-dollar denim
I still pray to God, but these a different type of Christians
My-My slippers Marni, look like I'm gon' steal your Christmas
My entire closet look like his entire wishlist
All that, all that tough talk just not scary for me
That is not your house, that's an AirBnB
Blow a couple thou', it's like therapy for me
Appearing with yo' ass, that's a charity event, damn, damn
Ain't shit to throw some cash on your brodie head, damn
I'm mad as hell, there's ash on my Bode pants, damn
I might throw this ho a bag if she show me somethin', damn
They keep tryna hold me down, but they can't get it done
You made me sell my soul for sizes and I'm dealin' with it still
I can tell by the way you talk, you're just not feelin' how I feel
And at the end of the day, it's hard, but sometimes shit gon' be unfair
And after everything's said and done, maybe this shit gon' be okay
Okay, maybe this shit gon' be alright
Just maybe, maybe I shouldn't have made that call
I shouldn't have chased you down, you shouldn't have stayed that long
I know I could've worked this out, I could've worked this (uh, uh, I could've worked this out)
(Huh, I got this, I-)
(Uh, uh, uh, uh, I could've worked this out)
All that tough talk just not scary to me
That is not your house, that's an AirBnB, huh
Blow a couple thou', it's like therapy for me (haha, what the f-?)
Appearing with yo' ass, that's a charity event, damn, damn
Ain't shit to throw some cash on your brodie head, damn
I'm mad as hell, there's ash on my Bode pants, damn
I might throw this ho a bag if she show me somethin', damn
They keep tryna hold me down, but they can't get it done
I had it finished up, baby, you ain't missin' much
I just went through yo' months rent and ate that shit for lunch
She blowin' up my contact, come get yo' bae before
I fly her out to Palm Springs and separate you both
Just did my dishes in six-hundred-dollar denim
I still pray to God, but these a different type of Christians
My-My slippers Marni, look like I'm gon' steal your Christmas
My entire closet look like his entire wishlist
All that, all that tough talk just not scary for me
That is not your house, that's an AirBnB
Blow a couple thou', it's like therapy for me
Appearing with yo' ass, that's a charity event, damn, damn
Ain't shit to throw some cash on your brodie head, damn
I'm mad as hell, there's ash on my Bode pants, damn
I might throw this ho a bag if she show me somethin', damn
They keep tryna hold me down, but they can't get it done
You made me sell my soul for sizes and I'm dealin' with it still
I can tell by the way you talk, you're just not feelin' how I feel
And at the end of the day, it's hard, but sometimes shit gon' be unfair
And after everything's said and done, maybe this shit gon' be okay
Okay, maybe this shit gon' be alright
Just maybe, maybe I shouldn't have made that call
I shouldn't have chased you down, you shouldn't have stayed that long
I know I could've worked this out, I could've worked this (uh, uh, I could've worked this out)
(Huh, I got this, I-)
(Uh, uh, uh, uh, I could've worked this out)
Writer: Asmil Rodriguez, Ian Smith
Copyright: Lyrics © Distrokid
Copyright: Lyrics © Distrokid
Hermes Sheets
(Hermès bedsheets, I'm 'bout to get the, get the-)
(It's nothin' flashy, spent a hunnid, hunnid)
Huh, Hermès bedsheets, I'm 'bout to get the best sleep
I get it fastly, they just can't understand it
It's nothin' flashy, spent a hunnid bands on 'em
Huh, he runnin' past E, I got a full tank on
Exotic coupe, I just took the brains out
Them fake Ricks, I could walk a damn mile
I need my space, I just buy a second house
Not sayin' shit, still gon' run that damn mouth
We too far apart right now and it's startin' to feel too real
He touch my guy, we Mortal Kombat, finish him
Just might be runnin' outta time, but that's okay
Sometimes you gotta close yo' eyes and hope for better
I-I-I might just lose my mind if I keep goin', money sign
I'm prolly gon' decline if I don't see mil's, gon' get hard
But I'm climbin' up the mountain for you, bae
It's only time before we found out, what we prolly could've had
Huh, Hermès bedsheets, I'm 'bout to get the best sleep
I get it fastly, they just can't understand it
It's-It's nothin' flashy, spent a hunnid bands on 'em
He runnin' past E, I got a full tank on
Exotic coupe, I just took the brains out
Them fake Ricks, I could walk a damn mile
I need my space, I just buy a second house
Not sayin' shit, still gon' run that damn mouth
Huh, go ahead and keep yo' comments, I'm fine without 'em, whether you like it or not
I take a piece of yo' mind and find a way out, I am not stayin' the night
He wanna come 'round now, was countin' me out, he'll never do that again
Been in that fit for three damn months, look like the cat just dragged him in
Cayenne Porsche, throw it in sport, I almost lost my lunch
Very important, I'm in the store sippin' on sparklin' water, huh
Ridin' the bitch, tryna get in, he gotta bend his coats
This car got two damn seats, one for me, one for my bad lil' ho
Hermès bedsheets, I'm 'bout to get the best sleep
I get it fastly, they just can't understand it
It's nothin' flashy, spent a hunnid bands on 'em
He runnin' past E, I got a full tank on
Exotic coupe, I just took the brains out
Them fake Ricks, I could walk a damn mile
I need my space, I just buy a second house
Not sayin' shit, still gon' run that damn mouth
(It's nothin' flashy, spent a hunnid, hunnid)
Huh, Hermès bedsheets, I'm 'bout to get the best sleep
I get it fastly, they just can't understand it
It's nothin' flashy, spent a hunnid bands on 'em
Huh, he runnin' past E, I got a full tank on
Exotic coupe, I just took the brains out
Them fake Ricks, I could walk a damn mile
I need my space, I just buy a second house
Not sayin' shit, still gon' run that damn mouth
We too far apart right now and it's startin' to feel too real
He touch my guy, we Mortal Kombat, finish him
Just might be runnin' outta time, but that's okay
Sometimes you gotta close yo' eyes and hope for better
I-I-I might just lose my mind if I keep goin', money sign
I'm prolly gon' decline if I don't see mil's, gon' get hard
But I'm climbin' up the mountain for you, bae
It's only time before we found out, what we prolly could've had
Huh, Hermès bedsheets, I'm 'bout to get the best sleep
I get it fastly, they just can't understand it
It's-It's nothin' flashy, spent a hunnid bands on 'em
He runnin' past E, I got a full tank on
Exotic coupe, I just took the brains out
Them fake Ricks, I could walk a damn mile
I need my space, I just buy a second house
Not sayin' shit, still gon' run that damn mouth
Huh, go ahead and keep yo' comments, I'm fine without 'em, whether you like it or not
I take a piece of yo' mind and find a way out, I am not stayin' the night
He wanna come 'round now, was countin' me out, he'll never do that again
Been in that fit for three damn months, look like the cat just dragged him in
Cayenne Porsche, throw it in sport, I almost lost my lunch
Very important, I'm in the store sippin' on sparklin' water, huh
Ridin' the bitch, tryna get in, he gotta bend his coats
This car got two damn seats, one for me, one for my bad lil' ho
Hermès bedsheets, I'm 'bout to get the best sleep
I get it fastly, they just can't understand it
It's nothin' flashy, spent a hunnid bands on 'em
He runnin' past E, I got a full tank on
Exotic coupe, I just took the brains out
Them fake Ricks, I could walk a damn mile
I need my space, I just buy a second house
Not sayin' shit, still gon' run that damn mouth
Writer: Asmil Rodriguez, Ian Smith
Copyright: Lyrics © Distrokid
Copyright: Lyrics © Distrokid
Omakase
(Haha, what the f-?) Hm, hm, hm, hm, hm, hm
(Haha, what the f-?) Huh, huh, huh, huh
(Haha, what the f-?, haha, what the f-?)
Huh, huh, huh, huh
I hate how when we take the molly we get closer (I hate it, I hate it, I hate)
'Cause we won't be as open-minded when we sober (no, no)
I bet yo' bitch would wait in line to take a photo (wait, wait)
You stab my back? No, your sorry can't cut (what the f*ck?)
I bust my ass, Day 'N Nite, Kid Cudi (f*ck, f*ck)
Been runnin' that mouth for days and still ain't said nothin' (not a damn thing)
So many dead faces, look like a mass murder (ah, ah)
I'm slidin' in with the hell, make everybody heads turn
I'm Savage, the Macho Man, just watch yo' head before I jump off them ropes
As soon as I buy you that bag, go and pop that tag, 'cause I do not plan on returnin'
T-T-shirt might be blank, but it'd break yo' bank, I don't even know where it's from
T-This ho go both ways, and I say, "Okay, I'ma still take that down"
I see yo' comments, lil' man, still can't give you the time of day
3.5 in this wood, look like Megan Thee Stallion leg
My body wide, so I can't fit this Number (N)ine tee, goddamn
I shoulda never believed that bitch, and she should've never believed my ass
I hate how when we take the molly we get closer (I hate it, I hate it, I hate)
'Cause we won't be as open-minded when we sober (no, no)
I bet yo' bitch would wait in line to take a photo (wait, wait)
You stab my back? No, your sorry can't cut (what the f*ck?)
I bust my ass, Day 'N Nite, Kid Cudi (f*ck, f*ck)
Been runnin' that mouth for days and still ain't said nothin' (not a damn thing)
So many dead faces, look like a mass murder (Ah, ah)
I'm slidin' in with the hell, make everybody heads turn
So much ash on my body, look like I got set on fire
I didn't ask for your two-cents, keep that shit inside yo' pocket
Left watch, presidential, look like I'm gon' run for office
I bought it, I didn't rent it, so I drive it how I want to (I drive, drive, drive, drive, drive)
This a tussle, me against the Fronto (against the-)
Jimmy Butler, hit him with the cross-up (hit him with the-)
Just built this range, I still legged it, all the options
I take her brain, then I take her, Omakase (on my own)
(Haha, what the f-?) Huh, huh, huh, huh
(Haha, what the f-?, haha, what the f-?)
Huh, huh, huh, huh
I hate how when we take the molly we get closer (I hate it, I hate it, I hate)
'Cause we won't be as open-minded when we sober (no, no)
I bet yo' bitch would wait in line to take a photo (wait, wait)
You stab my back? No, your sorry can't cut (what the f*ck?)
I bust my ass, Day 'N Nite, Kid Cudi (f*ck, f*ck)
Been runnin' that mouth for days and still ain't said nothin' (not a damn thing)
So many dead faces, look like a mass murder (ah, ah)
I'm slidin' in with the hell, make everybody heads turn
I'm Savage, the Macho Man, just watch yo' head before I jump off them ropes
As soon as I buy you that bag, go and pop that tag, 'cause I do not plan on returnin'
T-T-shirt might be blank, but it'd break yo' bank, I don't even know where it's from
T-This ho go both ways, and I say, "Okay, I'ma still take that down"
I see yo' comments, lil' man, still can't give you the time of day
3.5 in this wood, look like Megan Thee Stallion leg
My body wide, so I can't fit this Number (N)ine tee, goddamn
I shoulda never believed that bitch, and she should've never believed my ass
I hate how when we take the molly we get closer (I hate it, I hate it, I hate)
'Cause we won't be as open-minded when we sober (no, no)
I bet yo' bitch would wait in line to take a photo (wait, wait)
You stab my back? No, your sorry can't cut (what the f*ck?)
I bust my ass, Day 'N Nite, Kid Cudi (f*ck, f*ck)
Been runnin' that mouth for days and still ain't said nothin' (not a damn thing)
So many dead faces, look like a mass murder (Ah, ah)
I'm slidin' in with the hell, make everybody heads turn
So much ash on my body, look like I got set on fire
I didn't ask for your two-cents, keep that shit inside yo' pocket
Left watch, presidential, look like I'm gon' run for office
I bought it, I didn't rent it, so I drive it how I want to (I drive, drive, drive, drive, drive)
This a tussle, me against the Fronto (against the-)
Jimmy Butler, hit him with the cross-up (hit him with the-)
Just built this range, I still legged it, all the options
I take her brain, then I take her, Omakase (on my own)
Writer: Asmil Rodriguez, Ian Smith
Copyright: Lyrics © Distrokid
Copyright: Lyrics © Distrokid
Chauncey
Yeah (woo), huh (woo)
Huh, huh, huh-huh-huh (Yo' tana, f*ck goin' on?)
Yeah, yeah, yeah (Private flight gang, bitch), huh
They tryna' catch up, they snail pace, can't get near me
Big broda like Snell playing, really ain't missing, huh
He runnin', we hittin' this trailblazer, Chauncey Billups, huh
You showin' me love, can't understand why I don't feel it, uh
Eyes getting low and my shoulders is heavy
I know how it look, but I'm doin' alright
Hopefully, soon I'll be over this shit, but I know until then I'ma shove it inside
Momma just texted, "I'm proud of you, son," and I know I'm not perfect, but, damn, I'm tryin'
I went and studded this brand new watch so much, I can't tell the God damn time
Junya Watanabe denim, I'm loadin' 'em up, they barely could fit my thighs
Three-hundred dollar McQueen turban, it's keepin' my thoughts in line
Stressed out spendin' out on retail, but I'm finna hop online (huh)
Your bitch used to them instant meals, just took her to Catch NY
Hold on, give me a minute, I really thought I had found my equal
Still runnin' from these thoughts, I cannot stop 'em, I'm gettin' weaker, huh
Whole gang pockets full of founding fathers, "We the people," huh
You can't leave my mind, I'm tossin', turnin', losin' sleep
They tryna' catch up they snail pace, can't get near me
Big broda like Snell playing, really ain't missing, huh
He runnin', we hittin' this trailblazer, Chauncey Billups, huh
You showin' me love, can't understand why I don't feel it, uh
I think that I might go under again, I'm losin' my head, huh
What happened to us? Is it something I said? Is it something I did? Huh
I wish I could help you to understand, but I can't save it, yeah
Big make his ass do the running man, it give 'em a scare, yeah
Yeah, yeah, huh, huh, uh-huh
Huh, huh, huh-huh-huh (Yo' tana, f*ck goin' on?)
Yeah, yeah, yeah (Private flight gang, bitch), huh
They tryna' catch up, they snail pace, can't get near me
Big broda like Snell playing, really ain't missing, huh
He runnin', we hittin' this trailblazer, Chauncey Billups, huh
You showin' me love, can't understand why I don't feel it, uh
Eyes getting low and my shoulders is heavy
I know how it look, but I'm doin' alright
Hopefully, soon I'll be over this shit, but I know until then I'ma shove it inside
Momma just texted, "I'm proud of you, son," and I know I'm not perfect, but, damn, I'm tryin'
I went and studded this brand new watch so much, I can't tell the God damn time
Junya Watanabe denim, I'm loadin' 'em up, they barely could fit my thighs
Three-hundred dollar McQueen turban, it's keepin' my thoughts in line
Stressed out spendin' out on retail, but I'm finna hop online (huh)
Your bitch used to them instant meals, just took her to Catch NY
Hold on, give me a minute, I really thought I had found my equal
Still runnin' from these thoughts, I cannot stop 'em, I'm gettin' weaker, huh
Whole gang pockets full of founding fathers, "We the people," huh
You can't leave my mind, I'm tossin', turnin', losin' sleep
They tryna' catch up they snail pace, can't get near me
Big broda like Snell playing, really ain't missing, huh
He runnin', we hittin' this trailblazer, Chauncey Billups, huh
You showin' me love, can't understand why I don't feel it, uh
I think that I might go under again, I'm losin' my head, huh
What happened to us? Is it something I said? Is it something I did? Huh
I wish I could help you to understand, but I can't save it, yeah
Big make his ass do the running man, it give 'em a scare, yeah
Yeah, yeah, huh, huh, uh-huh
Writer: Ian Smith, Stephen Lewis
Copyright: Lyrics © Distrokid
Copyright: Lyrics © Distrokid
Judgment
(It's Holiday Season, bitch)
(Haha, what the f*?)
(Haha, what the f*?)
Huh, brand new Margiela, same color a salmon
I done bought that bag for her, ho gon' throw a tantrum
Two pounds of gas on me, I smell like the Chevron
I done dropped a bag on it, where you think that ass from?
Huh, brand new season, not the last one
He don't mean it, he just act tough
They don't care how long it took to run yo' bag up
Damn right, I'm high as hell, that's how I manage
But I hope just one more blunt gon' show some answers
Even though it's gon' be hard, you gotta man up
You too close to that line to throw yo' hands up
I'm too damn filthy rich to entertain ya
Huh, same kid with the same high
I just spеnt yo' damn crib on a plain watch
Bottega frames, we don't see thе same sights
Two hoes at the same time, I couldn't pick my fave' one
But when that day come, we gon' pay the same price
You out yo' damn mind, you ever try that back talk
I drive this car like I'm beefin' with the asphalt
You play my guy, that's some shit that I can't laugh off
Huh, brand new season, not the last one
He don't mean it, he just act tough
They don't care how long it took to run yo' bag up
Damn right, I'm high as hell, that's how I manage
But I hope just one more blunt gon' show some answers
Even though it's gon' be hard, you gotta man up
You too close to that line to throw yo' hands up
I'm too damn filthy rich to entertain ya
Can't get upset, she like me better when I'm passive
I'm gon' pass this 'cause I got pounds on top of pounds, uh
I'm not past this, but I keep actin' like it's fine
When I'm tired of it, you a massive waste of time for me
Even though it's gon' be hard, you gotta man up (I couldn't pick my fave')
Too close to that line to throw yo' hands up
(Haha, what the f*?)
(Haha, what the f*?)
Huh, brand new Margiela, same color a salmon
I done bought that bag for her, ho gon' throw a tantrum
Two pounds of gas on me, I smell like the Chevron
I done dropped a bag on it, where you think that ass from?
Huh, brand new season, not the last one
He don't mean it, he just act tough
They don't care how long it took to run yo' bag up
Damn right, I'm high as hell, that's how I manage
But I hope just one more blunt gon' show some answers
Even though it's gon' be hard, you gotta man up
You too close to that line to throw yo' hands up
I'm too damn filthy rich to entertain ya
Huh, same kid with the same high
I just spеnt yo' damn crib on a plain watch
Bottega frames, we don't see thе same sights
Two hoes at the same time, I couldn't pick my fave' one
But when that day come, we gon' pay the same price
You out yo' damn mind, you ever try that back talk
I drive this car like I'm beefin' with the asphalt
You play my guy, that's some shit that I can't laugh off
Huh, brand new season, not the last one
He don't mean it, he just act tough
They don't care how long it took to run yo' bag up
Damn right, I'm high as hell, that's how I manage
But I hope just one more blunt gon' show some answers
Even though it's gon' be hard, you gotta man up
You too close to that line to throw yo' hands up
I'm too damn filthy rich to entertain ya
Can't get upset, she like me better when I'm passive
I'm gon' pass this 'cause I got pounds on top of pounds, uh
I'm not past this, but I keep actin' like it's fine
When I'm tired of it, you a massive waste of time for me
Even though it's gon' be hard, you gotta man up (I couldn't pick my fave')
Too close to that line to throw yo' hands up
Copyright: Lyrics © Original Writer and Publisher
Grand Slam
Yeah, huh
Uh-huh (hahaha), uh, uh
Huh
Uh, huh
Go 'head, run your mouth, shit funny to me, really, it's very simple
I call it the make-no-money disease and buddy got every symptom, huh
They go both ways in the Cullinan truck, the doors must hate each other, damn
They like, "Ian, you famous, boy," really don't make much difference, uh
I really don't pay much mind, end of the day, I'm the man still, huh
I'm finna take what's mine, hell nah, I don't need your handout, huh
Just bought her some Maison Margielas, your ho used to the Stan Smiths, uh
All of my bases covered, f*ck around, hit me a grand slam
Scared that once I say it, I can't never take it back
My hermano crazy about the pollo, Breaking Bad
Family-size this Wraith I drive, way too much room to spare, uh
It's your time, just put your mind to it and get that shit, huh
You gotta be sad as hell, maybe give being yourself a try
My pockets 'bout fat as hell, they don't really get much exercise, uh
As soon as you tired of him, baby, come see how this Lexus drive, uh
Can't give 'em the time of day, I'm really not here to impress nobody, huh
Everybody faces covered, go 'head, check the surveillance footage, huh
You testin' my patience, shawty, but I'ma keep holding out faith for us, uh
I feel like it's way too soon to say it, but maybe it's great for us, huh
I sent a prayer for you and your mans, it's not lookin' great for ya
Scared that once I say it, I can't never take it back
My hermano crazy about the pollo, Breaking Bad
Family-size this Wraith I drive, way too much room to spare, uh
It's your time, just put your mind to it and get that shit
Uh-huh (hahaha), uh, uh
Huh
Uh, huh
Go 'head, run your mouth, shit funny to me, really, it's very simple
I call it the make-no-money disease and buddy got every symptom, huh
They go both ways in the Cullinan truck, the doors must hate each other, damn
They like, "Ian, you famous, boy," really don't make much difference, uh
I really don't pay much mind, end of the day, I'm the man still, huh
I'm finna take what's mine, hell nah, I don't need your handout, huh
Just bought her some Maison Margielas, your ho used to the Stan Smiths, uh
All of my bases covered, f*ck around, hit me a grand slam
Scared that once I say it, I can't never take it back
My hermano crazy about the pollo, Breaking Bad
Family-size this Wraith I drive, way too much room to spare, uh
It's your time, just put your mind to it and get that shit, huh
You gotta be sad as hell, maybe give being yourself a try
My pockets 'bout fat as hell, they don't really get much exercise, uh
As soon as you tired of him, baby, come see how this Lexus drive, uh
Can't give 'em the time of day, I'm really not here to impress nobody, huh
Everybody faces covered, go 'head, check the surveillance footage, huh
You testin' my patience, shawty, but I'ma keep holding out faith for us, uh
I feel like it's way too soon to say it, but maybe it's great for us, huh
I sent a prayer for you and your mans, it's not lookin' great for ya
Scared that once I say it, I can't never take it back
My hermano crazy about the pollo, Breaking Bad
Family-size this Wraith I drive, way too much room to spare, uh
It's your time, just put your mind to it and get that shit
Writer: Ian Smith, Asmil Rodriguez
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Ltd
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Ltd
Figure It Out
(Haha, what the f-?)
Yeah, yeah (private motherf*ckin' flight, ya dig?)
Uh-huh, ha, ha
Huh, huh, huh
The way that I'm drivin' this Wraith
They 'bout to put me on suicide watch
Can't choose what color I'm feelin' today
Thank God it's a two-tone watch (two-tone watch)
He don't like what I'm doin', he probably'll say it
But he'll never do some' 'bout it
My big brother like Marshawn Lynch, he'll run through somebody
She done caught me on a bad day
Ho so perfect, it ruin my headspace
The driver go straight to the staircase
How could I ever be late to the airplane? (Huh)
These Japanese garments is handmade
Whole body covered in shit that I can't say (huh)
I take the Benz to the fast lane
I cannot help it, feel somethin' like Batman (huh)
Buddy can go 'head and crash out
Soon as he find me, let's see how it pan out
This Challenger tearin' up asphalt
Pops on the track so I'm rappin' my ass off
That pistol he totin' somethin' Airsoft
He don't do nothin' but act tough for them cameras
I prolly could share what I care about
I'm just afraid that you won't understand it
Me and Sxprano and tana still stuntin' in public
But the flights is private
Pedal to metal 'bout every last time I drive
Should cover my license plate, yeah
I make the whole trap jump right now
Like a motherf*ckin' parlay hit, yeah
I'm losing my head, but I'm holdin' it down
Shouldn't get started with me
The way that I'm drivin' this Wraith
They 'bout to put me on suicide watch
Can't choose what color I'm feelin' today
Thank God it's a two-tone watch (two-tone watch)
He don't like what I'm doin', he probably'll say it
But he'll never do some' 'bout it
My big brother like Marshawn Lynch, he'll run through somebody
Yeah, yeah (private motherf*ckin' flight, ya dig?)
Uh-huh, ha, ha
Huh, huh, huh
The way that I'm drivin' this Wraith
They 'bout to put me on suicide watch
Can't choose what color I'm feelin' today
Thank God it's a two-tone watch (two-tone watch)
He don't like what I'm doin', he probably'll say it
But he'll never do some' 'bout it
My big brother like Marshawn Lynch, he'll run through somebody
She done caught me on a bad day
Ho so perfect, it ruin my headspace
The driver go straight to the staircase
How could I ever be late to the airplane? (Huh)
These Japanese garments is handmade
Whole body covered in shit that I can't say (huh)
I take the Benz to the fast lane
I cannot help it, feel somethin' like Batman (huh)
Buddy can go 'head and crash out
Soon as he find me, let's see how it pan out
This Challenger tearin' up asphalt
Pops on the track so I'm rappin' my ass off
That pistol he totin' somethin' Airsoft
He don't do nothin' but act tough for them cameras
I prolly could share what I care about
I'm just afraid that you won't understand it
Me and Sxprano and tana still stuntin' in public
But the flights is private
Pedal to metal 'bout every last time I drive
Should cover my license plate, yeah
I make the whole trap jump right now
Like a motherf*ckin' parlay hit, yeah
I'm losing my head, but I'm holdin' it down
Shouldn't get started with me
The way that I'm drivin' this Wraith
They 'bout to put me on suicide watch
Can't choose what color I'm feelin' today
Thank God it's a two-tone watch (two-tone watch)
He don't like what I'm doin', he probably'll say it
But he'll never do some' 'bout it
My big brother like Marshawn Lynch, he'll run through somebody
Writer: Ian Smith, Asmil Rodriguez
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
