[Intro]
Yeah
Huh—Band Practice, like
Third shot, like
Favorite-rapper shit
I swear, the Frisbees have never been high
I mean, I'm reading back myself like, "Damn—really?"
Heh—ok


[Verse 1]
Livin' better at the thought of livin' better
Livin' is carpe diem so I'm caught in this forever
The smell of YSL over teddy bear sweaters
Know when I got one on, I never zip up my leather
Never did this to catch them, they wanted to catch me
Said, I wrote like I have yet to know what a rap be
Meaning it's deeper than rap, if you ask me
Or the subjects of the stories I told where the track be, haha
Two classics and rolling on lap three
My whip was two doors, I drove from the back seat
I did it like who's y'all and know that on lap three
I'm still clueless to y'all, but I know where the track leads
Meaning all I see is lane and opportunity
Lil' road kill, ID 'em by they jewelry
Know the flow still got 'em leaning out the coupe with me
Like, "Son, do you hear what he saying? I mean, truthfully"
Truthfully, I'm just waiting for this to pass
This five-year plan that I gave 'em is in the bag
The bag got monograms on it if you ask
And a space jam glow if you open it and grab
Just a dude from Brooklyn who had intentions
Of hoping that Jay is watching and saying, "Yeah, he gets it"
But hoping that Jay is watching is double-edged and twisted
Like, "Yeah, I'm still a fan but now I'm within the business"
The blinders is on but I get the urge lift 'em
I peak and leave it there, I out-swerve collisions
My peak is still in there, I'm nowhere in reach of it
Yet, I sound like its a throne here that I'm leaning in
Critics say that my destiny's that guy
I'm just here to tell a story, if I ever sit that high
Then I'm playing follow the leader, applaud that as a given
Like, "I don't fuck with the nets, but damn I fuck with his vision"
And I never been a follower, but if I do follow
It'll be a six-hundred-mill leader and a few bottles
My fan base is double-knotted like an ascot
Half of 'em got degrees, half of 'em got stash spots
Half of 'em strip and half is contemplating
I see your vision, Mama
I put my money on the long shot, treat it like you Caine and Dog
With no prints to be rinsed and no names to recall
I mean, we out here in grind-mode, caught up in a paper chase
I wanna fuck a fine ho and front-row the fade aways
Madison square
Or Barclays, whenever the boys from Madison Square is passing through there
I'm in a blue and orange state, its only apathy here
I was raised on them colors, Jigga, that should be fair
But I still lift my hat at the achievement
Only it's blue and orange letters where the team is
If we can get past that and between this, uh, then this baton will be easy for me to leave with
Floor seats, suede Timbs where my feets is
Raised on what he wrote and who my team is
[Chorus]
I'm tryna get these floor seats wit' Young
Prolly make me take my hat off 'cause my team just won
Videos wit' Spike Lee and my sneaks is dumb
Records wit' Jill Scott, and if you be where I'm from, that means the world