The Author

The average person like Nard & B
Gon think this shit I’m talkin' bout made up
Or make believe or some shit
But nah man, this my everyday life dawg
Trenchwerk
I got some stories I’m tellin' but they not made up
Don’t try to dap me, just spare me, don’t want that fake love
18 ain’t know ‘bout no Rollie, wanted a Jacob
So when I tell you this story know they not made up
Keep on my chain when I fuck her, bae yeah we made love
It took eight months and a couple weeks just to save up
I told my mama go get it because she know I got it
Might buy the house I grew up in just to say I bought it
We just extra flexin' (yeah)
Hundred racks on a necklace (ohh)
First time I got booked in Houston
Sold out show in Texas (sold out showing)
I couldn’t make no money off this at first
This shit was stressful (at first it was)
I was in these niggas face with my CD
Just like a freckle (aye, aye)
I was prolly leavin' the studio
When they was on they way to breakfast
When they was prolly goin' to sleep
I was still up I was goin' extra
Right before the new Walmart, I was still on Gresham
I told myself, «Never fall off, Quan you gotta do better»
I do this shit in real life nigga, no make-believe (no, no)
I was broke as hell growin' up
Now fifty what I make a week (yeah, yeah)
Rich in spirit, that the way to be (rich homie baby)
These niggas cotton
And I’m harder than 'em (that right too)
It’s copywritten 'cause I wrote it, I’m the author nigga
I got some stories I’m tellin' but they not made up
Don’t try to dap me, just spare me, don’t want that fake love
18 ain’t know 'bout no Rollie, wanted a Jacob
So when I tell you these stories know they not made up
Keep on my chain when I fuck her, bae ya we made love
It took eight months and a couple weeks just to save up
I told my mama, go get it because she know I got it
Might buy the house I grew up in just to say I bought it
At the strip club, we at day shift
Fifty thousand on my bracelet
Eight months I was savin'
House so big no neighbors yeah
Tryna out ball my paper yeah
Real life story not made up (nah)
In high school fuckin' hoes by Stephenson
Out by Decatur (fuck them hoes)
Smokin' by the cafeteria back near the gyms
Smokin' mid throwin' out the seeds
And spittin' out the stems (spittin' out the stems)
Niggas tried to count me dow
So I had to bend the rim (I bent my act)
I remember mama house, recording, no engineer (hey, hey)
Remember when grandmama died
It hurt, couldn’t shed a tear
I swear I saw my mama cry
Didn’t know there’ll be better years (I love you mama)
I try to put away my pride, no middle
Face all my fears (nah real talk man)
We need a plate, don’t try to starve us
Can’t make this up when you the author (rich homie baby)
I got some stories I’m tellin' but they not made up
Don’t try to dap me, just spare me, don’t want that fake love
18 ain’t know 'bout no Rollie, wanted a Jacob
So when I tell you these stories know they not made up
Keep on my chain when I fuck her, bae ya we made love
It took eight months and a couple weeks just to save up
I told my mama go get it because she know I got it
Might buy the house I grew up in just to say I bought it
Trenchwerk