Hit-Boy

Where would I go?

You know real (where would I go?)Real big boss shit (where would I go?)

Distinguished gentleman shit

Real street nigga shit, yo

Jumped in the game feet first and I paid for my actions

Hospital stays, laid up, related to asthma

And all I knew was chase paper in a dangerous fashion

Them boxes came to my crib with my name on a package

Mama, I made it, rose petals and gold Chevelles

Ask the team, we all cop gold bezels at those levels

It′s on my wrist and as well as my hip, it's cold metal

This kinda game only run through your veins and your bone marrow

It cost me, they tell me, Be humble, they think I′m flossin'

Shit, I probably am, I got this out the concrete

I stood in front of buildings, sold dope brown as coffee

Wearin' Barkleys

I just parked the 740 by a palm tree (that′s real shit)

Stuck to the plan from out the sand, get rich and share it

When you a dope boy, this the life that your bitch inherit

She wanna fuck me on a yacht and take a trip to Paris

I buy her expensive shit and she forget to wear it

Big dough when you thought of my block

I bought a brand new pistol when I thought of the opps

I had the money on the roll ′fore the water got hot

And I still remember who owe 'case y′all thought I forgot

The Butcher comin', nigga

It′s the biggest (M-M-M-M, where would I go?)

Niggas desire to fit in, I was invited (where would I go?)

Pistol whipped a few niggas, he got indicted (where would I go?)

When you face a few years, it's time to fight it

I shoot the prosecutor right back, Johnny Unitas

Perry Mason, Gary Payton

The double M nigga, I live amazin′

Dope boy alumni, such a classy unit

All double R's at the class reunion

Pistol heavy, the money bagger

The bitches at me, up the ladder

Franchise, it's rappers that can′t size us

Bitches flew out of state, just to stand beside us

For a selfie, that boy wealthy

Four floor condos, that nigga selfish

Waterfalls and all, deep in the cells

I speak with my heart, I rarely talk a lot

Went from Ford to Ferrari, look at the parkin′ lot

Seatbelts never, that's a common law

′Cause when the shots fired, fat boy hoppin' out

It′s time to explain just what your songs 'bout

′Cause when your homie got shot up, you cut your phone off

Only way I go is where I wanna be

My niggas all on top, it's what I wanna see

My kids in the mansion, it got a hundred rooms

Playin' hide and seek for weeks, what you wanna do?

Always talkin′ coke and man, I sold the most

′Til all my niggas broke, Belaire Rose we toast

Always keep your word and keep your mama close

You ride for your brother, teach your son the ropes

You never want it back, a blessing get the most

That Rolex on your wrist

Don't let it cost your soul (cost your soul, cost your soul)

M-M-Maybach Music

Griselda