When I started rapping
Nobody wanted to listen
Nobody thought I was good
Nobody thought I was gifted
I made it my mission
Took the hate I was given
I developed a game plan
Then created an image
Started without cash
Now I'm making a killin'
Started without views
Now I'm hittin' a million
High as the ceiling goes
And I'm ready to snap
I know my fake friends
Who got me stabbed in the back
As a matter of fact ...
All you rappers are trash
You only talk about the cars
Guns, bitches, and cash
When in real life you sit home
Stuck on your ass
Feeding the youth bull shit
You put in your raps
I talk about real life
And shit that I've been through
And paint vivid stories when I pick up a pencil
If you disagree then you're part of the issue
'Cause words are a weapon you're able to misuse
Tell a hater they can kick rocks
I don't got time on my wristwatch
And I'll pullin' up to your block (what?!)
Tell a hater they can kick rocks
Let 'em run their mouth with the shit talk
And I'll pullin' up to your block (what?!)
Ooh, oh
Ooh, Ooh, oh
Ooh, oh
I'm back live in the west
Divin' in checks
So remind me once more
Who the fuck you tryna neglect
The fame brought pressure
But I'm survivin' the stress
Goin' gold, fuck platinum homie
Diamond is next
This is hunger at it's finest
I'm relentless and it shows
This is what you get when
Passion meets obsession with the growth
This shit is way bigger than
Impressions on a post
Time to put me on the list
With the legends and the goats
So fuck mass appeal
Boy keep the passion real
Soul plus skill
I'm the mo' fuckin package deal
I eat these rappers up for lunch
And that's a half a meal
Heat stay spillin' out my palm
Like I'm packin' steal
Talk business on flights out to Rio
Haters send shots I'ma dodge em like Neo
Lionhearted baby you can tell that I'm a leo
Me, myself, and I that's the mo'fuckin' trio
So I could never put my trust in a snake
Y'all couldn't get on my level
Or even muster the strength
Got an athlete's mindset
And hustle is bank
It's Mass of Man and Vin Jay
Come and fuck with the greats
I'm like ...
Tell a hater they can kick rocks
I don't got time on my wristwatch
And I'll pullin' up to your block (what?!)
Tell a hater they can kick rocks
Let 'em run their mouth with the shit talk
And I'll pullin' up to your block (what?!)
Ooh, oh
Ooh, oh
Tell a hater they can kick rocks
Ooh, oh
(It's Mass of Man and Vin Jay)
Ooh, oh
Pullin' up, to your block
(What?!)