Best in the World
Lyrics
Jog on some beats then I'm out
Y'all running for clout
Got words, I'ma get you if you running your mouth
Give a fuck about opinions, but you calling me out
So I'ma pick a pen up, show em a couple of routes
I started spitting, as a kid, and I kept on writing written
And I left it for a minute, and I sorta kinda missed it
I am sorta kinda dope, I'm the coldest with the pen and
I'ma need a fucking pendant, for the best in the division
I'ma keep on stacking commas do addition
I'm subtracted all the rappers
That you claim can cause division
Claim can cross, my guys, shit we different
You not good at math, so y say we even
I was being humble, now I'm coming for throats
I knew I was cool, but I thought others was cold
I thought I was just making music, or what I was told
I forgot I can be the best fucking rapper in the world
I'm only going for gold
Top 3, not 2 or 3, the best in the world
They tryna knock me off the throne, they get left on the curb
They tryna come for the king, they getting put in dirt
You ever seen that mathafucka, with that look in his eye
Look in my eyes, you'll see it more everytime
I'm so focused, can't lose focus, I'm a poet, written poems
And my penc keep on flowing, it keep going, writing more scripts
Top the game, and not in prime yet
I'm a motherfucker who ain't get his time yet
Ask if Ima shine yes, take every verse like a contest
If I get better every verse then I'm winning, thats how I flex
Rapping 'bout ya hoes and clothes and dough, so
You lose it all, you lost ya soul, that's so cold
You ain't got a thing to spit
So the people stop listening
You lose ya whole image, then ya whole career is over with
Then y'all on some sucker shit, start bucking for bucks & shit
Giannis on the block, if I get it then I'm dumping it
Always roll with hundreds, this music make me a bunch of 'em
Middle finger to the motherfuckers who ain't fuck with it
I'm only going for gold
Top 3, not 2 or 3, the best in the world
They tryna knock me off the throne, they get left on the curb
They tryna come for the king, they getting put in dirt
I done prayed in good times and bad times
Head above the water, I don't wanna be baptised
Feelin' like an author, what I was in my passed lives
I just look ahead to future, because the past lies
My life is a movie, I'm writing it on these last lines
Feel like we bout the break, I need a cast size
Feel like I need a break, still haven't had mine
This game is a ship, the kids gone make it capsize
Jog on some beats then I'm out
Y'all running for clout
Got words, I'ma get you if you running your mouth
Give a fuck about opinions, but you calling me out
So I'ma pick a pen up, show em a couple of routes
I started spitting, as a kid, and I kept on writing written
And I left it for a minute, and I sorta kinda missed it
I am sorta kinda dope, I'm the coldest with the pen and
I'ma need a fucking pendant, for the best in the division
I'ma keep on stacking commas do addition
I'm subtracted all the rappers
That you claim can cause division
Claim can cross, my guys, shit we different
You not good at math, so y say we even
I was being humble, now I'm coming for throats
I knew I was cool, but I thought others was cold
I thought I was just making music, or what I was told
I forgot I can be the best fucking rapper in the world
I'm only going for gold
Top 3, not 2 or 3, the best in the world
They tryna knock me off the throne, they get left on the curb
They tryna come for the king, they getting put in dirt
You ever seen that mathafucka, with that look in his eye
Look in my eyes, you'll see it more everytime
I'm so focused, can't lose focus, I'm a poet, written poems
And my penc keep on flowing, it keep going, writing more scripts
Top the game, and not in prime yet
I'm a motherfucker who ain't get his time yet
Ask if Ima shine yes, take every verse like a contest
If I get better every verse then I'm winning, thats how I flex
Rapping 'bout ya hoes and clothes and dough, so
You lose it all, you lost ya soul, that's so cold
You ain't got a thing to spit
So the people stop listening
You lose ya whole image, then ya whole career is over with
Then y'all on some sucker shit, start bucking for bucks & shit
Giannis on the block, if I get it then I'm dumping it
Always roll with hundreds, this music make me a bunch of 'em
Middle finger to the motherfuckers who ain't fuck with it
I'm only going for gold
Top 3, not 2 or 3, the best in the world
They tryna knock me off the throne, they get left on the curb
They tryna come for the king, they getting put in dirt
I done prayed in good times and bad times
Head above the water, I don't wanna be baptised
Feelin' like an author, what I was in my passed lives
I just look ahead to future, because the past lies
My life is a movie, I'm writing it on these last lines
Feel like we bout the break, I need a cast size
Feel like I need a break, still haven't had mine
This game is a ship, the kids gone make it capsize
Writer(s): Dylan Daponte
Copyright(s): Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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