[Intro]
|
Imma' be paid forever
|
I look up
|
Finally Famous Nigga
|
|
[Hook]
|
I woke up working like a Mexican
|
That mean I work from 10 to 10
|
Then 10 to 10, then 10 again
|
Nightmares of losing everything boost my adrenaline
|
|
[Verse 1]
|
All this bread can’t be good for my cholesterol
|
Don’t come round’ talking loudly, fucking up my repertoire dawg
|
I can’t lie bruh lately I’ve been stressing heavily
|
I'm sipping, popping, smoking on whatever take the pressure off
|
Diss you, FF Imperial til my burial
|
Dodging every bullet and venereal
|
Anti-fuckboy material til I’m dead, I’m living proof,
|
If you focus on what’s in front of you and not what’s in the peripheral
|
It’s gone, word? Boy I seen drama on drama
|
Drama on drama over comma on comma
|
I’m bringing home dead prez, my house done feel like its haunted
|
I put the city on my back, right along with my garments
|
Went to sleep, snoring
|
|
[Hook]
|
|
[Verse 2]
|
I got 3 jobs like I'm Jamaican though
|
I need 3 wives like I was Haitian though
|
One cook, one clean, the other PMS’ing, ho Hablo ingles’
|
If police have questions they don’t know what that mean nigga
|
They say Detroit going through the great depression
|
Still it’s been depressed so long I can’t even tell depression here
|
My homeboy still gon’ pull up on them rims big as a Ferris wheel
|
So many rides up on the curb my lil cuz thought the fair was here
|
Like oh, I'm primo, top spot redeemed ho, for who? My team
|
And we might take a trip to Jamaica, Montego, pussy and flamingos
|
Got me thinking the fuck I need to sleep for?
|
|
[Hook]
|
|
-----------------
|
10 2 10
|
| Big Sean |
