My Own S***

Duration

3:24

Genres

Urban

Description

Lyrics

my own s*** Copyrights and publishing that means I own this You can say I love myself, I’m on my own dick Whenever jb drop the beat you know I’m gon spit I design tailored rhymes, of course its gon fit Like puzzle pieces connect display the whole pic Beats and rhymes combine, in minds the song sticks Hate when the track bangs, but dudes they don’t rip So when it’s all said and done, I bump my own shit Never sellout to get spins though there’s a long list Of people who will, I am on the target honed in An expert marksman with the pen the market open Like when I pack it, light it up and take a long hit No half stepping, my best is what you gon get Delivery’s slick like oil slips I bet you gon trip The lab is where you catch rap then pack the bowl quick Mix it master it and after this I bump my own shit Don’t have to lust ya girl, I got my own chick That I love think highly of and get along with Got the right one before I picked the wrong bitch She was twisted like Sam and Charlie on the long kiss Real controlling and knew how to push the wrong switch Which made me think of ways to put her in a cold ditch? Found out her tactic then took action with a cold diss Soon after packed up, hit reverse backed out and got my own crib Got ambition so what I want I go get Ya’ll steady wishing in them wells that filled with goldfish Ya’ll on the ocean with no anchor as the boat drifts Swift beats bang and hit hard just like a closed fist The rhyme deliverer that’s why they call me Moses Got the goods and helping brothers out like Joseph Who was hated on, imprisoned and the whole bit But in the end he had to give because he owned it Got my card, so weed I grow it Trees on deck and there is no longer need for yo shit Dispensary meds of course we know they potent They say compassion and they taxing, making no sense Ya’ll spending 20 everyday that shit is so dense They know your name but bank is low u start to notice Wasting cash and gas each day you go on yo trips Start saving dough today, and grow your own hemp I know you like my style but I can’t loan it Provide the fee supply the beat you’ll get a song quick Always something fresh nothing old your gone get I keep my publishing don’t like it move along quick A ghost writer, supply ya number 1 hits Most who rap today be on the wrong shit Not maturing its like they is some grown kids Who follow trends and friends blend in and mooch off yo shit You aint got ya own that is some hoe shit U mob the hood to try and find someone to smoke wit Aint got no greens or even 5 you can put on it can smell the weed but sad it seems you taking no hits You better get ya own shit nigga Cause I’m a get mines