[Hook]
I do this for the fucking 601
I do this for the n***as that never had none
Mississippi n***as who never got a deal
Unsigned artists who never thought it was real
Aye
All these n***as i wish the best for em
But im gunnin for that top spot like im Forrest Gump
Shootin for the stars ain't nothing else to it
Killin all competition I'm tryna make a hit
Aye
This is for the haters of the 601
Northern n***as hate our shit but ain't on one
They think we on some corny shit but really we not though
Im just a southern n***a who bout to kill all my shows
This is for my n***a who's coming out of camp shelby
Free my n***a EJay. That's my fuckin homiee
Yeah and I'm bout to kill yall n***as that's wassup
And you bout to see me make six figures Double O's
Yeah

[Verse 1: Tech$ Finesse]
Sometimes I sit back, rewind all the bright times, in my youth I could shine instead witnessing knife fights and crime. Cutting clean white lines drifting up my nose, the sun rose, I froze. Ashes from blunts surrounding me below. Although I had the ambition to get what I didn't have what I was missing, sitting back reminiscing, rocking back and now I'm wishing. That I could've taken a better stand, not thinking 'bout when I become a man, my last resort is to pray for guidance from God's hand
From God's hand
Put it on God's hand yeah
[Verse 2: Tech$ Finesse]
I got 20 on it if you got 5 on it
Bitch n***as hating on me like I'm on something
I told you fuckers I ain't gon nothing left on me
But yall n***as keep commenting like I'm the best Emcee
Nahh n***a Im just the Mississippi area's crowned prince
Going hard on you n***as like a fucking soulja boy dance
20 racks say I got this song to the top spot
2 racks to say I get shot in this parking lot
If I ever die I want this song to be my greatest lost tape
Along with my other shit to say I was great but never rocked bape
Clams on this beat never thought I would get this shit
Came a long way from the bottom now I'm here so let's get it bitch
Bars from the dome but I also wrote some of this shit
Just so it can be envisioned and enlightened by your next door ditch
I sit down and watch the wind make these leaves pass by Thinkin bout my pass get me kinda high when im feelin low Weed smoke dont help me get by no mo Yet I still buy some mo for old times sake My whole head aches like im 48 and stressed But im blessed i just can't find my blessing yet The lesson i learned, sometimes you Gotta make a bet Gamble yo life and see success or eternal debt

[Verse 3: Tech$ Finesse]
But holdon wait a fucking minute
I ain't fucking finished yet I put that on my pendant
N***as always about the paper well not like me I'm not gettin it
Ain't made not one dollar off the songs I made yet
Fuck all you haters and the n***as who said i wouldn't make it
Bet all you n***as mad that I'm here. Jet
Ballin on you wankstas, gangstas, and heros. Threat
Damn my bars so hard its like a cold sweat
Shouldn't have let me rap
Shouldn't have let me scrap
Shouldn't have let me snap
Shouldn't have let me trap
Fuck it then now show it all on the weather map
Goin in on these n***as now they think I got it. Net
Never disrespect my southern n***as we got it back
Top of the rap game, Nah i was never that
Put me in a cypher boy I'mma kill it
And if you ever try me boy I'mma win it