Carry On

Lyrics

[Intro: Samples + Joey Bada$$] Statik Selektah "—live and direct" "Others such as myself are tryna—" "—carry on tradition" Carry on tradition "Got Statik, and I'mma select" "You get it!" Mic check, 1, 2, 1, 2 Mic check when a nigga come through "—carry on tradition" Niggas keep it silent 'Cause we all about that knowledge [Verse 1: Joey Bada$$] Besides the fact a nigga never been as swank as me, I like that Until I shine I sit patiently, so light that I'm folding back, scroll a pack and roll a fatty, smoke-savvy Not divinorum, mad I'm thinking what they probably should have did before him I'm on my girls and soaring, foreign under them heels It ain't about the Ralph though, tell your horse chill Don't need to grill to feel like a real nigga If he can't see the light then shine Hilfigers still Six-figure deals with the hell, since the age of six I knew the name would ring a bell In six more years to wonder what the time could tell That's 666 still no signs of a three-sixty deal Neither did I sell myself, records spinning by they self The DJ tell myself go reflects off the reflex, before I told Flex drop that Semtex on the next New York best This sickest sound, stick around, and we coming for the vets now Can a nigga contest? Maybe if he put his pride aside he could confess, but none the less It's fundamental, weed to fund the mental, wise with the momentum So rise on this momental, so pawn your in-credentials Watch who you pretend to, and put a potent diamond to fuel Respect my conglomerate then wait I'm rocking to It's such a prominent tune, but I won't get my roses until I lie on my tomb Flowers [Bridge: Samples + Joey Bada$$ + Freddie Gibbs] "Others such as myself are tryna—" "—carry on tradition" Carry on tradition Fo' sho' Yeah "Got Statik, and I'mma select" I said, that E-S to the G-N, bitch "—live and direct" Yeah, fo' sho' "—carry on tradition" Gangster Gibbs, baby Nigga, that Hennessy— Nigga, that Hennessy—nigga, that Hennessy— [Verse 2: Freddie Gibbs] With my lyrical Billy Dee .45 Colt Fuck the polices, they raided but they can't find dope If it ain't about money and bitches—nigga, what you rhyme for? Work half a day in my trap, and make what you sign for My niggas is willing to whip that work Cause it's such a ridiculous feeling to come in your crib and your shit don't work Electric, gas, and water You fugazi and mutilated like Pookie at the Carter Joseph Jackson of gangsta rapping, nigga respect the father Taking it back to making them pick a switch off the tree Every time you rap or do a show, bitch I should pinch off a fee You used to flow 'bout goofy shit, met a G and got on some groupie shit A slave to my rap page, student under my tutelage I'm still taking these boys to school As quick as I build them up, I can just disassemble them Coke and cut the curriculum cousin stayed up in Flint I was shipping this shit to Michigan The black bastard fuck LensCrafters I see the bitch in them Cop a squat drop a pile on them, I'm steadily shitting on these niggas But they hate the way Freddie came and switched up the style on 'em I stretched it out to 250 he got a nine coming Don't sell it at night but I'm up as early as five something Chopping boulders, and blowing dosha so fuck a cup of Folgers Bended corners, and serving yola straight off this Motorola Sometimes you sacrifice your heart to serve this hard weight Thirty rounds of death on my waist, its Baby Scarface, nigga [Outro: Samples + Freddie Gibbs + Joey Bada$$] ("—carry on tradition") Yeah I said, thirty rounds of death on my waist, its Baby Scarface, nigga I got thirty rounds of death on my waist, its Baby Scarface, nigga Yeah ("—carry on tradition") Carry on tradition "Got Statik, and I'mma select" "You get it!" You know what I'm sayin', nigga? These niggas'll rap around circles and shit But, you know what I'm sayin', if they ain't talking no real shit, it really doesn't really fuckin' matter, you dig what I'm sayin', nigga?Haha, ya dig? [Produced by: Statik Selektah]