Fame

Yuh, look, look
Who fuckin' with me? Tell me one name
And ask him if he came from dope spots and gunplay
Finally off the runway, damn it feel good to spend a thousand on my son’s shades
Look, with street smarts who I dumb paid
Seen the brake lights, I had to swerve off the runway
Uh, I knew that I would make it one day
Know I gotta be a real nigga 'cause I’m unphased
I got a Beamer with a whole lot of trunk space
fuck face actin' mad 'cause he unpaid
And I been out here since a young age
I never been the type to complain
I’ma let my gun bang
By any means to make my funds raise
I’m on this money marathon, nigga, so I run things
Check out this status that I obtained
It’s ten racks and four tickets if you want me at your club, mane
And in the scheme of things, that’s chump change
When you doin' ten a month and savin' up when you done things
I Crip hard and get love from the Blood gang
Blue Chucks on the Red Carpet like, «Fuck fame»