Success

Lyrics

[Intro] Yeah, they don't even know What a young nigga got to go through to get to where he at Uh But I feel like I'm destined (Uh) I feel like I'ma be successful with something [Verse 1] My name ring in jail and I ain't even been The state and the system hold all my friends Free my brother, they movin' him again Too many fights, too many wins I know I ain't perfect, I pay for my sins Sayin' my prayers, then I gas up the Benz I don't want no problems, so come get your mans He think he want this problem, this ain't what it is I'm slidin' in traffic with new F&N's Condo' relaxing, just me and a ten She tеllin' me stories how she wanna livе It's matching up with everything that I've got to give Might hit Miami, go crazy, get lit Pop the Rosé, I just want to live When I touch down, where the straps at? It's too much money on my fuckin' neck, uh [Chrous] How you want respect? I demand it, easy Hit a bad bitch from the back, got her queefing Pockets got bad cholesterol, they cheesing Sippin' on plenty Wockhardt, got me wheezing R.I.P. to all the young niggas I knew Got to thank God death ain't hit my crew It almost did a few times, I'm blessed I guess I'm really here for the success [Verse 2] I guess a young nigga really up next, you know me, I don't need no ID Fake niggas want to link just to say we speak Real niggas hold it down, you could say that's me In the city where they bang, I ain't talkin' 'bout Keef If niggas coming, plenty smoke like the vape pen free Heard you mistreat your dogs, they be begging to eat They heard that money in your mattress, they gon' put you to sleep Allegations on his name, he ain't hangin' with me You can keep the fake love, stay away from me We the clean up crew, keep a maid with me Don't know about them other letters, keep a K with me Only in it for the money, what's the fame for me? But I wouldn't mind having Kim K with me Wouldn't mind fuckin' with a little Kimberly Might show her how a young nigga really do, uh [Chrous] How you want respect? I demand it, easy Hit a bad bitch from the back, got her queefing Pockets got bad cholesterol, they cheesing Sippin' on plenty Wockhardt, got me wheezing R.I.P. to all the young niggas I knew Got to thank God death ain't hit my crew It almost did a few times, I'm blessed I guess I'm really here for the success