Baby back, aye Couple racks, aye Couple Grammys on him Couple plaques, aye That's a fact, aye Throw it back, aye Throw it back, aye
And this one is for the champions I ain't lost since I began, yuh Funny how you said it was the end, yuh Then I went did it again, yuh
I told you long ago, on the road I got what they waitin' for I don't run from nothin', dog Get your soldiers, tell 'em I ain't layin' low You was never really rootin' for me anyway When I'm back up at the top I wanna hear you say "He don't run from nothin', dog" Get your soldiers, tell 'em that the break is over
Uh, need a Uh, need to get this album done Need a couple number ones Need a plaque on every song Need me like one with Nicki now Tell a rap nigga, "I don't see ya", ha I'ma pop nigga like Bieber, ha I don't fuck bitches, I'm queer, ha But these niggas bitches like Madea Yeah, yeah, yeah Ay, oh let's do it I ain't fall off, I just ain't release my new shit I blew up now everybody tryna sue me You call me Nas, but the hood call me Doobie, yah
And this one is for the champions I ain't lost since I began, yuh Funny how you said it was the end, yuh Then I went did it again, yuh
I told you long ago, on the road I got what they waitin' for (I got what they waitin' for) I don't run from nothin', dog Get your soldiers, tell 'em I ain't layin' low (Bitch, I aint runnin' from no one) You was never really rootin' for me anyway When I'm back up at the top I wanna hear you say "He don't run from nothin', dog" Get your soldiers, tell 'em that the break is over
My track record so clean They couldn't wait to just bash me I must be gettin' too flashy Y'all shouldn't of let the world gas me It's too late 'cause I'm here to stay and these girls know that I'm nasty I sent her back to her boyfriend with my handprint on her ass cheek City talkin', we takin' notes Tell 'em all to keep makin' posts Wish he could but he can't get close OG so proud of me that he chokin' up while he makin' toasts I'm the type that you can't control Said I would then I made it so I don't clear up rumors Where's y'all sense of humor? I'm done makin' jokes 'cause they got old like baby boomers Turn my haters to consumers I make vets feel like they juniors Say your time is comin' soon but just like Oklahoma Mine is comin' sooner I'm just a late bloomer I didn't peak in high school, I'm still out here gettin' cuter All these social networks and computers Got these pussies walkin' 'round like they ain't losers
I told you long ago, on the road I got what they waitin' for (I got what they waitin' for) I don't run from nothin', dog Get your soldiers, tell 'em I ain't layin' low (Bitch, I aint runnin' from no one) You was never really rootin' for me anyway When I'm back up at the top I wanna hear you say "He don't run from nothin', dog" Get your soldiers, tell 'em that the break is over
Yeah I'm the industry baby I'm the industry baby Yeah
Compositores: Kanye Omari West (Kanye West), Raul Ignacio Cubina (Rcubed), David Biral (Cosby Hugh), Denzel Michael Akil Baptiste (Den Z), Mark Carl Stolinski Williams, Jackman Thomas Harlow (Jack Harlow), Nicholas David Lee (Paper Son), Rosario Peter Iv Lenzo, Montero Lamar Hill (Lil Nas X) ECAD: Obra #40300471 Fonograma #29081290