[Intro]
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You good, T-Minus?
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[Refrain]
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Niggas been countin me out
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I’m countin my bullets, Im loadin’ my clips
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Im writin down names, Im makin a list
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Im checkin it twice and Im gettin’ ’em hit
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The real ones been dyin, the fake ones is lit
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The game is off balance, I’m back on my shit
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The Bentley is dirty, my sneakers is dirty
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But thats how I like it, you all on my dick
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[Verse 1]
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Im all in my bag, this hard as it get
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I do not snort powder, I might take a sip
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I might hit the blunt, but Im liable to trip
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I ain’t poppin no pill, but you do as you wish
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I roll with some fiends, I love em to death
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I got a few mil but not all of them rich
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What good is the bread if my niggas is broke?
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What good is first class if my niggas cant sit?
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Thats my next mission, thats why I cant quit
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Just like LeBron, get my niggas more chips
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Just put the Rollie right back on my wrist
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This watch came from Drizzy, he gave me a gift
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Back when the rap game was prayin Id diss
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They act like two legends cannot coexist
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But Id never beef with a nigga for nothin
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If I smoke a rapper, its gon be legit
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It wont be for clout, it wont be for fame
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It wont be cause my shit aint sellin the same
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It wont be to sell you my latest lil sneakers
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It wont be cause some nigga slid in my lane
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Everything grows, its destined to change
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I love you lil niggas, Im glad that you came
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I hope that you scrape every dollar you can
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I hope you know money wont erase the pain
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To the OGs, Im thankin you now
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Was watchin you when you was pavin the ground
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I copied your cadence, I mirrored your style
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I studied the greats, Im the greatest right now
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Fuck if you feel me, you aint got a choice
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I aint do no promo, still made all that noise
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This year gon be different, I set my intentions
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I promise to slap all that hate out your voice
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[Refrain]
~#**************#~
Niggas been countin me out
~#**************#~
Im countin my bullets, Im loadin my clips
~#**************#~
Im writin down names, Im makin a list
~#**************#~
Im checkin it twice and Im gettin em hit
~#**************#~
The real ones been dyin, the fake ones is lit
~#**************#~
The game is off balance, Im back on my shit
~#**************#~
The Bentley is dirty, my sneakers is dirty
~#**************#~
But thats how I like it, you all on my dick
~#**************#~
[Chorus]
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I just poured somethin in my cup
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Ive been wantin somethin I can feel
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Promise I am never lettin up
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Money in your palm dont make you real
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Foot is on they neck, I got em stuck
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Ima give em somethin they can feel
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If it aint bout the squad, dont give a fuck
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Pistol in your hand dont make you real
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[Verse 2]
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Im dead in the middle of two generations
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Im little bro and big bro all at once
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Just left the lab with young 21 Savage
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Im bout to go and meet Jigga for lunch
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Had a long talk with the young nigga Kodak
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Reminded me of young niggas from ‘Ville
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Straight out the projects, no fakin, just honest
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I wish that he had more guidance, for real
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Too many niggas in cycle of jail
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Spending they birthdays inside of a cell
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We coming from a long bloodline of trauma
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We raised by our mamas, Lord, we gotta heal
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We hurting our sisters, the babies as well
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We killing our brothers, they poisoned the well
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Distorted self-image, we set up to fail
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Ima make sure that the real gon prevail, nigga
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[Chorus]
~#**************#~
I just poured somethin in my cup
~#**************#~
Ive been wantin somethin I can feel
~#**************#~
Promise I am never lettin up
~#**************#~
Money in your palm dont make you real
~#**************#~
Foot is on they neck, I got em stuck
~#**************#~
Ima give em somethin they can feel
~#**************#~
If it aint bout the squad, dont give a fuck
~#**************#~
Pistol in your hand dont make you real
~#**************#~
[Outro]
~#**************#~
Money in your palm dont make you real
~#**************#~
Pistol in your hand dont make you real
~#**************#~
Money in your palm dont make you real