It’s hip-hop, not pop
Working my way to the top
I walk my way to the top like im going up stairs
Now the army suit's cute with my chocolate airs
And i ride for any nigga who believe in the shit
The way i flow shocks you like friction on a carpet
40's on the 20's with the stove top, i'm steady plannin',
And he tryna make it front row to the show to throw me one
Yo yo yo, lets bring it from the top down, the only way is down from here,
Who woulda thought a lil nigga from the ville could get a deal
I was in a drive by, killed the lights like a pro as i glide by,
True to the gamei claim outlaw riderswe give a fuck what they try
Seems like there s a killer on the scene
I live by the code: fuck bitches, love queen
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