| Huh, yeah, huh |
| Ladies and gentlemen uh, huh |
| Boys and girls, huh |
| Need y’all to just uh, huh, rock with me |
| Uh, yeah, uh |
| I used to dream about a Dodge Charger |
| Suicide doors, sittin' on 24's |
| I was tryna find a job, but shit, why bother? |
| Being broke can make you try harder |
| Sittin' in the house watchin' Coach Carter |
| Plottin' on this fuckin' Cartier, hey |
| Plus a nigga tryna go farther |
| I finally arrived and nobody’s here, hey |
| I used to dream about a new Hummer |
| Back when G.O.O.D. Music dropped Cruel Summer |
| Back when niggas wondered if I’d do numbers |
| Check the stats, boy, a nigga doing huge numbers |
| Got this dime piece suckin' on my cucumber |
| I ain’t doin' too bad for a newcomer |
| This life shit gave me scars with a bruise under, hm |
| Certain shit will make you wonder (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah) |
| But that’s a part of the game we call life, love is hard to attain |
| My lil' brother drive a Jeep and I just bought him a chain |
| A real nigga what I’m is and what I always remain |
| But this bitch temptation keep callin' my name |
| I wrote this song in LA, I was driving my Benz |
| Thinking 'bout this road I’m on to acquiring ends |
| I’m a fuckin' outlier, I retire these trends |
| Niggas told me I was stupid just for hiring friends |
| I used to dream about a Dodge Charger |
| Suicide doors, sittin' on 24's |
| I was tryna find a job, but shit, why bother? |
| Being broke can make you try harder |
| Sittin' in the house watchin' Coach Carter |
| Plottin' on this fuckin' Cartier, hey |
| Plus a nigga tryna go farther |
| I finally arrived and nobody’s here, hey |
| Okay |
| Listen to these proverbs, the odd words we call rap music |
| That took me all across the globe, watch people react to it |
| Big in self imagination, couldn’t fathom elation |
| And describe it with words, so I go illustrate it |
| Illustrious rhymin' career, for which my rhymes are revered |
| Clear signs of alignment shows my timing is near |
| We all here for an assignment, severals souls that are migrant |
| Simply vessels in this climate, solitary confinement |
| I break free every time that I wake |
| My fate bleeds and create seeds that eventually blossom to trees |
| Getting rid of all the extra shit I thought I would need |
| I put your head on the swivel, wear my heart on the sleeve |
| But just breathe, the simple exercise can even rectify |
| Our greatest sins, although my days won’t end next to God |
| I atone for all of my wrongs throughout songs |
| But let him who is without sin go cast the first stone, motherfucker |
| I used to dream about a Dodge Charger |
| Suicide doors, sittin' on 24's |
| I was tryna find a job, but shit, why bother? |
| Being broke can make you try harder |
| Sittin' in the house watchin' Coach Carter |
| Plottin' on this fuckin' Cartier, hey |
| Plus a nigga tryna go farther |
| I finally arrived and nobody’s here, hey (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah) |