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[Produced by DJ Don Cannon and Kanye West]
[Verse: Jay Rock, Kendrick Lamar, & Jay-Z sample]
Not wearing two chains, but I keep it TRU
Real niggas with me; my real bitches, too
Out for Trump change, yeah, I gotta eat
Patience is a virtue, something flawless gonna come to me
I'm rollin OG, blow it out the roof
She eyeballing me, macking hoes like CPUs
She know me, might've saw me on TV too
Thugging with the homies, tryna make it, kicking ghetto tunes
Out the gutter, bitch, what your focus is?
Small-time hustling, now it's time to do it big
I want it all, fancy cars, yeah the newest shit
Came a long way, riding round on my Buick shit
Win by any means—who said it best?
Kobe Bryant mind-state, I'm shooting 'til I'm accurate
Can't stop it 'til I'm a couple million strong
Grinding to put my loved ones on, in my zone
Not your average rapper, step inside my universe
Far from you average rappers, nothing is by the book
Welcome to Hell's Kitchen, show you just how to cook
The city is full of bishops, putting pressure on rooks
My vision so panoramic, my brain on another planet
To reach it, you gon' need more than a neuro-ologist, honestly
To be honest, far from lyrical
Gifted with miracles; when I rhyme, it's a ritual
Spit it, it hit your spiritual, nigga
I'm planning my day of triumph
All I got is my word and my sword, choppers and bibles
I pray—pray a nigga never get in my way
'Cause that'll be the moment he make his bed and just lay
And now, you see me shining, perfect timing, I'm a Top Dawg
I love this feeling, make a killing when I'm on tour
All my life surrounded by negativity, jealousy
Through the midst of it all, this what they telling me
Motherfuckers can't rhyme no more, 'bout crime no more (Uh-huh)
When I was in the streets, I put them numbers on the board (What happened?)
I robbed two niggas, put they chains in the pawn shop (What else?)
Got five hundred, spun't it all on a quarter piece (Uh-huh)
Made about fifteen hundred (Uh-huh)
Them new J's was about two hundred (Uh-huh)
The word got back, they know I done it (Tch...)
Spent a thou' on a few new drummers
Took it to them, 'cause I knew they was coming
Three yards left (Ahahahaha)
Ran through those like first-and-goal
Naw I'm back, burnt pistol close, like, "Who got the dough?"
Yea, DMX of the projects (Uh-huh)
Skinny Black nigga with a complex, fuck your Pyrex (Fuck your Pyrex, haha)
Robbing everything, no patience for the nonsense
Professor X with a Tec, get your mind hit
They say I rap with a chip on my shoulder
Naw, nigga, this the wits of a soldier, motherfucker
It's Jay Rock!
[Outro: Kendrick Lamar]
Oohoohoo, ahahahaha, ahh!
You got it, big bro!