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Top Ten (Prod. By 6ix) (Feat. Big K.R.I.T)

I hope you feel this shit

Top ten flow and it's still this shit

Went away, had to get away

Been away, came back and a motherfucker still the shit

Hold up, what's real as this?

Feelin' myself, who ill as this?

Mastered the flow from the east to the west

But right now I'm wondering how trill is this

I've been around for a minute now

One hunnid, I'm in it now

People that wasn't there back in the day talkin' bout

Man, remember I'm winning now

I could only imagine if I was beginning now

Back in the beginning now

Fuck that

Spent a mil' on the chain and I tell my company deduct that

Get the fuck backFirst off I give a fuck about all that top five

If I ain't in it

Niggas barely ever play my records (It don't matter)

But I'm still winnin' from the M-I-crooked

Just to make 'em peep what I'm cookin', I love Mississippi

I put a studio in my partner kitchen

So by the way I'm whippin you would think I'm juggin' these hoes

Cuttin' crack and make 'em double back like excuse me nigga

I need a stove, nah, I ain't selling dope

But this a metaphor for my flow

But I'mma probably have to hit with a fork (maybe dumb it down)

'Til it bubble up and then rise some more

So I can bag it up for these insta folk

And sell it for the low 'cause they simple

If I hear "KRIT, you need a hit" one more time

Lookin' at us like "how these motherfuckers gon' under ship mine?"

Still do an interview here there

And they don't even know that I'm signed (Nigga you had to know that)

If I wait on the label to support my vision I might go blind

Lately I've been on my tell it all get rich

Start plottin' on my way I did

To show like Empire may the very thing I dreamed of

Look like bullshit

Kill 'em all, why not, King when I'm busy

Krizzle up in the blizzard and the cold

Said who was here, never really snowed in the sizzie

Fuck what ya heard, multi 'til I dizzie, bitchAight, check it, it's the take

I heard y'all been checking my net worth

What the fuck is y'all doing?

Y'all ain't on my level, boy, go pay your rent first

And then maybe I'll sign you

I'm looking for talent, I hope that I find you

(Wait a minute, you asked me now let me tell you

Now here's another problem)

They probably expecting that shit for the first album, man fuck that

They'll say that I changed

And I'll say I had to show 'em my range

'Cause if I do what I did then they'll say it's the same

Just can't win in this game (What's wrong with it)Money talks, that's a figure of speech, that went over their head

Like the dough that I throw in the air like I'm Papa John

That mafia money, that parmesan

My shortie a dime, your bitches are not, pennies

Probably take her to Denny's, we chillin at Lenny's

You know I got 99 problems, but keep it a hundred

You know that I done it

Just me and my homies, we tryna make it to the summit

Praying that we don't plummet

Like "Oh my God look at your boy now you finally done it"

I've been writing these records from actual facts

So hopefully you learn something from it

But what I learned is

Songwriters

Justin Scott, Robert Bryson HallPublished by

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