A.K. - Wanting More Lyrics

My day job is your dream job
Then I hit the stu' where my dreams are
Two careers and I kill 'em both
None of my peers are coming close
None of my fears are taking hope
Pay attention and take notes
Haven't got to my prime yet
Like I forgot to pay Bezos
I stay bros with day ones
Lay low on fake ones
You might be up now
But you comin' down when your day comes
Talk a lot about gang shit
Talk a lot about staying rich
Talk a lot about dough you got
On beats you stole that you couldn't afford
Oh man
Versace, Versace, I don't give a fuck 'bout Versace
Or illuminati, as long as I know that the dough that I'm getting
Keep going like the fibonacci
I'm cooking, I'm cheffing, I got the hibachi
Throw me the pussy, I ran through the posse
Fucking her softly, mattress is costly
Go 'head, go 'head, go 'head and stop me
Yeah
West side boy with a east side ting when I pull up, yeah (Skrrt-skrrt)
Girls who never cared back then saying what up, yeah (Skrrt-skrrt)
Used to hate the money rap it's so ignorant
But back then I didn't think that I'd be paying Manhattan rent
Talkin' 'bout taste?
Talkin' 'bout taste?
Oh my god I'm so expensive (Oh my god!)
Oh you wanna flex?
Oh you wanna flex?
Boy don't start that competition (No flex!)
You don't want to get involved, not at all
Man I swear to god these brown moms got more ice than all of y'all
Swear to god these brown girls more spice than everyone
Swear to god Aishwarya, since '94, you're the only one
Swear to god, Mashallah, Persian girls you're on one
I want y'all to scream "yallah" when you hear this song come
My wallet feel like a cemetery
Rest in peace to these presidents
Respect us when you address us
At our future Hidden Hills residence
Lot of y'all are fake activists
Always posting on Twitter shit
Man real shit
When's the last time you donated to anything?
I gave racks to Syria (Racks)
Gave racks to India (Racks)
Gave dick to girls who once said
Sorry I'm not into ya
It's funny how those things change
Funny how that bridge burns
Back then you curved me
Now my hands on your curves
This year I'm getting the last word
Need to get this shit faster
Work hard 'til I'm surrounded by all stars like passwords
First lesson for the new comers
Just know the industry is never fair (Never)
Everybody just shares lies while still expecting the lion's share
Look I'm very nice
I just don't need your advice on how to get my music right
You never even made a song in your life
Telling me how to make it better
I don't tell you hot to get her wetter
I only act like I never met her
Where the fuck you really think she really got that sweater huh?

Don't try, every song you just lie
I will not play your tape
This ain't 13 Reasons Why
This is really do or die
This is me, myself, and I
Look up in the sky
And watch a brown boy fly
Watch a brown boy fly
A brown boy fly
Watch a brown boy fly
A brown boy fly
Watch a brown boy fly
A brown boy fly
Watch him fucking soar
And he's only 24, yeah