Under Pressure

Album: Under Pressure (2014)
  • Work so fucking much, my greatest fear is Imma die alone
    Every diamond in my chain, yeah, that's a milestone
    People calling me, asking me for money, man
    The only thing Imma give you motherfuckers is the dial tone

    Flashbacks of a youngin' sipping that purple Kool Aid
    Skipping school with my homies and chiefing reefer for two days
    Running from the law, living how I'm living, fuck 'em all
    Bumping Triple Six
    Hennessy in my cup, driving through the sticks
    Who the bitch, riding with me?
    Man, the devil tryna get me
    Motivated, undereducated, and hated
    But finally getting cake like a happy belated
    Bitch I made it, we on
    Buy it, break it, roll it, light it, smoke it, inhale it, write it, record it, mix it, master it, press it up, unveil it
    Feel like I've been waiting forever, forever to inherit
    This is war, I declare it
    Time is money, I can't spare it
    Futuristic, so simplistic
    Please decipher my linguistics
    Slow it down, Robitussin
    I'm the king, ain't no discussion
    And now we blowing up like spontaneous human combustion
    My consumption is the illest
    Section eight, I know you feel this
    On the come up, where they run up on you for nothing at all
    Brighter than eleven suns, this the first, where my funds?
    EBT, that's the card
    I thank God, I thank God, but it's hard, but it's hard

    Work so fucking much, my greatest fear is Imma die alone
    Every diamond in my chain, yeah, that's a milestone
    People calling me, asking me for money, man
    The only thing Imma give you motherfuckers is the dial tone

    God damn, god damn, we at it again
    Me and my homies that know me blowing up like the Taliban
    Yeah, my stress up, but I'm blessed up
    Fuck around and get messed up
    When I murder the rhyme, I'm living divine
    You know that I'm one of a kind
    Lemme get it right now, ho
    Draped up and I'm dripped out
    Right now, ho
    Caked up 'til I cash out
    And I got em all wondering how, so
    On the down low, haters drown slow
    On the down low, haters drown slow
    Oh God, my God, we got it all right
    Oh God, my God, we gotta get it right
    These fuckers facades, they just a mirage, right?
    I said these fuckers facades, they just a mirage, right?
    Tell me that they love me, know damn well that they don't give a fuck
    I be on that finger flipping killing shit up in the cut, that's what's up
    All these bitches out here tryna gas it up
    This is everything I ever wanted, I can't pass it up
    Life changed in a year, couldn't happen fast enough
    "Can I do it like you do it?" That's what they be asking us
    White benz, black card, bitch better get your plastic up
    Man, this shit is hella hard, but we never acting up
    Live it up, hold on to your dream, don't ever give it up
    Finally had my share of success, and shit, I can't get enough
    Now they know my name through the nation
    'Cause my single like that good shit, man, always in rotation
    Now they know Logic for Logic, not through my affiliations
    Stacking profit on profit, from this music I'm making
    Even Jesus had haters, so when you feeling forsaken
    Tell 'em jealous Judas is who this is, and man, that'll break 'em
    And Bitch I'm still the same
    Dash of auto tune so y'all can feel the pain
    Broke as fuck, back in that basement, not a dollar to my name
    Chasing fame, chasing glory, 'til the day we make a story
    Positive that life ain't mine, bitch you can take that shit to Maury

    Work so fucking much, my greatest fear is Imma die alone
    Every diamond in my chain, yeah, that's a milestone
    People calling me, asking me for money, man
    The only thing Imma give you motherfuckers is the dial tone

    (Hello, no one is available to take your call)

    I been working hard, I been searching for God
    I been working hard, I been searching for God
    Please leave a message after the tone
    Little brother, this is your sister, you're busy, I getcha
    But I insist you call me back cause I miss you
    I wish you well
    Well, I wish you would call
    'Cause lately you feel like I'm just not your sister at all, all Writer/s: STEVE WYREMAN, ROBERT BRYSON HALL II, WILLIAM EARL COLLINS, ABRIM JR. TILMON, GEORGE JR. CLINTON, ROBERT MELLIN, LORENZO JERALD PATTERSON, GUY B. WOOD, BERNARD G. JR. WORRELL, ERIC WRIGHT, ANDRE ROMELL YOUNG
    Publisher: Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner Chappell Music, Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
    Lyrics licensed and provided by LyricFind

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