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• Artiste: Don Q
• Titre: Words Of Wisdom
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Don't you ever question my greatness Come see the legacy this legend creating Testing my patience, your label gon' have to check for replacements The reef a call away, I bring it out on special occasions Motha's onto me Used to hide my work next to the vases Nightmares haunting me Feeling like the last breath I was taking God was warning me Now every morning I'm checking for faces Now that I get paid to party, I show up and bring my army Better off safe than sorry, I'm never gonna play safaree LA nights boogie had the Lambo, I played the 'Rari Selling white and I ain't tell 'em a word when they came and charged me I never worked a shift, I got it from the first to fifth I had to learn the tricks like stuff the bags and burn the tips Christmas time I couldn't tell my daughter I ain't earned a cent I had to hit the curb and pitch, I leave and I return with gifts Made decisions to keep my momma with a place to live And stayed up wishing that she never seen them dinner plates was missing Where I'm from the young wild niggas just hate to listen Cause the old heads before us showed us how to make a difference I feel upset, my killers check whoever's sending threats You still in debt, got plenty checks and I ain't get to spend 'em yet Nothing in direct, I'm still a living legend in the flesh I remember deaths I couldn't cope but dog I'm still a mess Bitches left and I wish 'em best I know she feel depressed You the one it should effect Your loyalty was just a test Don, Bitch! Back to the future how I hit 'em with the flows This coop isn't born, you need nine months to grow Marty McFly like I'm nineteen years old I'm Marty McPie sell 'em thousand dollars an O Yellow gold, keep it classic Big money been around, push weight Jurassic Send your bitch to Aspen for her b-day Send your younger bitch to Coachella for bout three days Same circle pass each other like a relay You live in, I land on, difference between our PJ's Niggas still making albums using label budgets I get it out the streets before the label touch it Take two years and tell the label fuck it My kilos streaming in the streets without a single buzzing Never wore all saints, retired Balmain Ball players turn them shits into a mall thing Showroom shop, the clerk is scrambling JW Anderson, I'm the manikin You hybridge niggas done made me fans again And Don Q got y'all panicking Push