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Lyrics
I'm in the studio All day all night Cookin' up the flow Gettin' my career right As I should Tryna get my mama up out the hood So don't blame me if I hustle like I'm broke Cause all my life I've been broke I'm K-Dot if you didn't know Aiming straight for the top Hub City beat '87 baby, '87 Cudi screamin' out "Fuck the police" Bubble kush in the trunk, choppers in the front seat Get your top peeled back, don't chitter-chat, don't speak of me I move low-key, I think like a double OG Inside of an old school bumpin' oldies So high off life, that bitch I could OD Die twice, and come back the same nigga Lame niggas get up out of my lane nigga Before the big rig come through and run over your brain nigga Me propane niggas for their dividends Fuck if you innocent, Compton, all of my uncles wore Pendletons West Coast rider, bitch, I'mma ride her 'Til the wheels fall off, buy more tires Mmm, say hello to the new prince I'm high king behind black tint Na'mean? I'm in the studio All day all night Cookin' up the flow Gettin' my career right As I should Tryna get my mama up out the hood So don't blame me if I hustle like I'm broke Cause all my life I've been broke I'm K-Dot if you didn't know Aiming straight for the top Get the fuck out of my business 'Cause I've been handling the fuck out of my business Grinding got perfect attendance Flyer than first-class and detention Uh, been a winner since the beginning And my records show, not even in the Guinness What do you mean, am I finished? I'm just getting started But you're on the sideline like Vince Lombardi Weezy, new born baby? and it's my party And I'm kicking like a horse on the stick-shift Ferrarri Like new cocaine, bright yellow dope? Bright red flag like a red velvet rope Open for criticism, but really is it any room for criticism? When this shit is in 'em is deeper than your pool, so I swim in toilets Bitch, I be and I been ballin' I'm in the studio All day all night Cookin' up the flow Gettin' my career right As I should Tryna get my mama up out the hood So don't blame me if I hustle like I'm broke Cause all my life I've been broke I'm K-Dot if you didn't know Aiming straight for the top Mmm, fuck 'em all, kill 'em all off Send 'em off to the holy one Put a hole in one, like miniature golf Price on your head, and they trying to purchase No matter the cost Hand over the cloth Cloth over the gun Gun over your jaw Bullet over your tongue Stick my dick inside hip-hop and shorty's sprung Every time I get a chance to come over, I overcome Over the snare drums They say, "Who fucking with you if you the god MC?" I tell 'em nun Get it? I tell 'em nun Catholic nor Christian, holding the Book of Psalms In the back of my True Religions Never passed the bar but I ain't got to study law Just to judge lyrics Mmm, I should be the judge of lyrics Bang the gavel, give you a life sentence I'm in the studio All day all night Cookin' up the flow Gettin' my career right As I should Tryna get my mama up out the hood So don't blame me if I hustle like I'm broke Cause all my life I've been broke I'm K-Dot if you didn't know Aiming straight for the top