Been by myself since the white tees Been by myself since dem franchize boyz Did that dance on that holdin' my white tee Trends came before fittin' in was a chore
In the end didn't nobody like me Even though I had on this white tee chillin' Grillin' with aluminum foil in my mouth From the south, bitch, I'm so icy And I was 9 back then, now I'm 19
Wonder how I'll look when I'm 90 Wonder if rap will be a white thing Wonder what you're gonna call my things Will it be hits? Will it be wack?
Will you not get me to the all black soiree When they dance on my grave and then pop champagne And remember my name and the lectures I bring
And the lectures I bring And the lectures I bring
May peace prevail, on this earth May peace prevail, on atlanta May peace prevail, on your soul May peace prevail, prevail, prevail
Been 'bout a check since the white tees You come around, cigarettes in the chest of your pocket Your hoodie had white sleeves I couldn't judge, I've done shit before
With no one around to indict me See me down with some insight we Know that it snows in the south Prolly all year 'round if you're talkin' in the right key
Everything was gonna be alright, my nigga Tell me why you're so into your pride, my nigga? Told you sellin' white, had a price, niggas juug Now you wanna turn around and go and fight some niggas
Tryna be a trap God for life, my nigga? Rather have kids and a wife, my nigga And you go off to the night with your shoulder in the ice Death got you by the scythe, my nigga
Sheist, my nigga, world's full of sheisty niggas Icy niggas, black, white, hypebeast niggas If I ever had a check for each and every single time A nigga at the finish line, I own nike, nigga
But then again, who am I? Boy down south, head too high Knowin' everything gon' be alright It's gon' be alright
May peace prevail, on this earth May peace prevail, on atlanta May peace prevail, on your soul May peace prevail, prevail, prevail
(Left him out to dry Somebody found that shit funny (laughs) Like you ain't ever have dry mouth Shit, you smoke weed, you know you've had dry mouth
Everybody had dry mouth, shit This is dj smooth jazz on the 1-2-2s Clap your hands, baby Come here, you, clap your hands
This might be the last time you hear me on your radio Our final broadcast. Clap your hands, mothafucka Clap your hands)
Compositores: Rahman Khalil Abdul, Samuel Joseph Bar Sheshet, Daniel Brian Seeff, Raury Deshawn Tullis (Raury) ECAD: Obra #14478258 Fonograma #13849291