[Intro]
Don
Yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah
I like this type of vibe
Yeah

[Verse 1: Don Q]
Don't you ever question my greatness
Come see the legacy this legend creating
Testing my patience, your label gon' have to check for replacements
The Wraith a call away, I bring it out on special occasions
Motha's onto me
Used to hide my work right next to the vases
Nightmares haunting me
Feeling like the last breath I was taking
God was warning me
Now every morning I'm checking for faces
Now that I get paid to party, I show up and bring my army
Better off safe than sorry, I'm never gonna play Safaree
LA nights boogie had the Lambo, I played the 'Rari
Selling white and I ain't tell 'em a word when they came and charged me
I never worked a shift, I got it from the first to fifth
I had to learn the tricks like stuff the bags and burn the tips
Christmas time I couldn't tell my daughter I ain't earned a cent
I had to hit the curb and pitch, I leave and I return with gifts
Made decisions to keep my momma with a place to live
And stayed up wishing that she never seen them dinner plates was missing
Where I'm from the young wild n***as just hate to listen
Cause the old heads before us ain't show us how to make a difference
I feel upset, my killers check whoever's sending threats
You still in debt, got pendin’ checks and I ain't get to spend 'em yet
Nothing in direct, I'm still a living legend in the flesh
I remember deaths I couldn't cope but dog I'm still a mess
Bitches left and I wish 'em best
I know she feel depressed
You the one it should effect
Your loyalty was just a test
Bitch, Don!
Bitch!
[Verse 2: Pusha T]
Back to the future how I hit 'em with the flows
This coupe isn't born, you need nine months to grow
Marty McFly like I'm nineteen years old
I'm Marty McPie sell 'em thousand dollars an O
Yellow gold, keep it classic
Big money been around, push weight Jurassic
Send your bitch to Aspen for her b-day
Send your younger bitch to Coachella for bout three days
Same circle pass each other like a relay
You live in, I land on, difference between our PJ's
N***as still making albums using label budgets
I get it out the streets before the label touch it
Take two years and tell the label fuck it
My kilos streaming in the streets without a single buzzing
Never wore all saints, retired Balmain
Ball players turn them shits into a mall thing
Showroom shopper, the clerk is scrambling
JW Anderson, I'm the mannequin
You highbridge n***as done made me fans again
And Don Q got y'all panicking
Push