文本歌词

Yo, Microphone Check 1 2 what is this?
Con took a check from every boss in the business
You can't be mad at me, thanks for having me
I'm from the same borough as Mobb Deep and Tragedy
Might be on Chelsea lately because of all the fame
So I spit a little game, maybe let her with a chain
Because styles upon styles upon styles is what I have
I'm dropping 20,000 when I'm up on 5th ave
I wear Dior sneakers because the boy's getting cash
And when we in the club, yeah I swing a Louis rag
When it comes to the devils, I'm not a half stepper
To pass **** is speedier than graffiti on the leather
Refuse to compete with BS competition
That couldn't get signed if they had a petition
I never walk streets thinking it's all about me
But I know ****** scheming so it's under the seat
I just try my best not to dumb on out
A Tribe with the Cud so you must be buggin' out
Yo, a few new stations, put me in rotation
They've embraced the martian, congratulations
Now my knots is too too thick
Bruskies running up asking me to do their favourite hit
With finesse, spit a verse and occasionally I blurt out
I'll strike a chord, and you can thank the lord
As I go in between the glitz and the glam
Listen my submission is the wishes of the fam-o
As a segway, I am alone
I'm trying to get mine, and you should go and get your own
Smoking my **** because it's therapy for me
When everything seems bleak because the devils I foresee
You-me, I-fly
You can't be me because your flow is too shy
I know I'll be the man if a co pull a plug on the autotune
But I can't and that's bug
Buggin' out