rude awakening$ - malz monday lyrics
[intro]
and now for my next number, i’d like to return to the classics
{verse 1}
f*ck a public opinion cause i never would need it
i took some l’s before but i never conceited
i made mistakes before i just never repeat it
shoutout my cousin ville, cause he dropped the bill at the precinct
sazz on ’em, that’s food for thought, i’m well seasoned
the day you n*gga’s f*ckin wit me is when h*ll’s freezin’
this sh*t is easy it feel like i got a cheat sheet
n*gga’s i used to look up to nowadays are beneath me
the money ain’t the only thing i’m workin’ for
n*gga [?] gon’ happen, get us a perfect score
i came to rule the world before the curtains draw
why you argue ’bout if it’s flat or if the earth’s a ball
my name meek mill’s, b*tch my name is moss
i came to level up, prep the final boss on his final court
the pastor keep on tryna rights my wrongs
but then i asked him, did adam and eve roam with the dinosaurs?
i swear this d’uusé got me kinda soft
prolly’ why my words slurrin’ over this conference call
for them blue faces they try to mop the floor
an catch you slippin’ so you know i never drop my guard
i stay on point like the one
i smoke till the roach and i roll a joint when it’s done
i’m bakin’ this pie while you n*gga’s focused on crumbs
i’m stackin’ it high while you n*gga’s hopin’ i’m done, (hm)
look
you can go to g*nius for the lyrics but the lines you gotta read between ’em
this ain’t for surface level thinkin’
i’m in the studio for the weekend
deep in my thoughts and let it sink in
look
if you ain’t on my frequency then we ain’t linkin’
lady in the streets but in the sheets she get kinky
that’s my type of chick
and then she throw it down in the kitchen like [?] i ain’t have to wait for [?]
look
don’t pass it if ain’t no grabba in the spliff
might take a trip to the bahama’s wit the clique
3 an a half if you get caught wit it in new york
still ridin’ wit the llama in the whip
miss them days me and silent, we was rhymin’ in the bricks
yeah, now my cousin do poorly, he in jamaica
i ain’t talkin bout the place the resort is
i know he, wish that he was still in the states with his daughter
the rain is free but they tell us we gotta pay for the water
pay them drugs but them drugs wasn’t ready to support her
got no money for the bentley, he can’t pay for the lawyer
now he stuck up in the cell and all these n*gga’s aborted
i ain’t no k!lla, but please don’t push me
they say i’m conscious, but i’m no p*ssy
flexin’ on all them n*ggas that tried to overlook me
ya dig? i’m out!
[outro]
i told you what it costs, it costs
a lot of hyped*up black people give you that money you’re spendin’, pimp!
don’t you try to bullsh*t me, boy. we’re all on the hustle. i sell broads and dope and numbers. you sell cr*p and blue sky. it’s all the same game
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