Mark My Words
Lyrics
I'm different
Grind strenuous, cash out continuous
Mogul in the making, autonomous black businesses
Broken culture that we all lost niggas in
Elevated innovation over ignorance
I represent it
Suburban tinted, fiver that's percentage
Closed cur but the Mac-11 muzzle vintage
Go flourish, double back and come and get your niggas
Pass the power to your people, it ain't nothing realer
Faced with this decision it's a funny feeling
Knowing when you tell the truth they gon' come and kill you
Knowing people need some proof, went and got the millions
Stressed a young nigga out but I'm so resilient
It's champagne, Honda Civics they was taking pictures
Young niggas in front the buildings tryna make a living
Or I just figured they was jealous 'cause we made it quicker
And never asked for no favors nigga
Look, real shit you can mark my words
'85 Cutlass, I'll make my swerves
These ho niggas tryna take what's yours
Take a stand or have to take one first
Back him up, but only take one burst
With white chalk I'll make 'em paint your curb
Rest in peace, have 'em paint your shirt
If a nigga's tryna take my worth
But you know
My last white was 20 million
So familiar like Tookie Williams, I'm in the building
My conversation is cash money
I fly private, rarely do I have luggage
Riding through the ghetto, where I'm from the kids love me
Everyday I'm rocking jewels, I know they wanna touch me
Repercussions mandatory when you injure mine
Every time I step on the block my dick on the line
Burning like a candle in Versace sandals
My persona on the camera, that's just how it's handled
Put me in coach, I'm going to the paint
Ran a couple tour days and took me to the bank
Mark my words I know you're broke, I see it in your face
Art bezel twin chains I spend it on the vase
US Marshals came to cut the gates
I'm Double M, I'm known to beat the case
Real shit you can mark my words
'85 Cutlass, I'll make my swerves
These ho niggas tryna take what's yours
Take a stand or have to take one first
Back him up, but only take one burst
With white chalk I'll make 'em paint your curb
Rest in peace, have 'em paint your shirt
If a nigga's tryna take my worth
But you know
My nigga Nipsey, from the mud to the marble, what's up my nigga, ugh.
It ain't 100 million in the room, shit I shoot for three, what's up, ugh
Writer(s): Ermias Asghedom, John Wesley Groover, Michael Ray Jr. Cox, William Leonard Roberts
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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