King Buzz - Just.Over.Broke
And the answer still noI just punched the clock again
I'm wasting time, all this clocking In
I feel by now I should be clocking M's. It's like the gatekeepers, hear Me knocking
But conspire to just block my wins
And fortify the ways I'm coming In, through all the tribulations
I'm focused on my greatness
I wish we would let these 9 to 5 Steady players
They up the production, but we Still make the same paper
We get paid to forget about our Dreams
I ain't with it, can't stop till every Check eight digits
Ninety-seven baby, push the ninety-seven Plymouth
They fucked up when they started Saying everybody winners
When niggas out here losing, Bitches out here choosing
They hit me for the heat, but when I drop them niggas snoozing
I just want the gang neck, studded Out like Rubin
If you ain't chasing wealth, then Tell me what the fuck you doing
Wake up every day, trying to Figure out the best ways
That I can get the whole fucking Set paid
Constant brainstorming, always Bleeds into the next page
I've been feeling stuck, like Nothing is enough
When I'm coping with this pain, All I know is run it up
But working overtime at a job, Take away from this
You gon' build your brand, or keep Making them niggas rich
I say you gon' build your brand, or Keep making them niggas rich
I will leave right now if the family Ain't need it
Clock in everyday, man, I swear I Feel defeated
I swear I feel defeated
But This ain't forever, only right Now
So I'ma hold it down for the family
For the family
For the family
I had a convo with a nigga, more Than twice my age
Say he remember getting Minimum wage
Told me where I am now is where I should stay
Try to explain all the money to Make
He said, if you work Sunday to Sunday
Maybe you make some money to Push a Benz or Beamer
And level up from that Hyundai
Had to tell him the goal was never A nice whip
I just want control over my life
And that's it
Tired of asking niggas, can I have A day off
That nine to five working hard never Pays off
My dawg say, fuck it
Then he became his own boss
Went from helping niggas cook to Making his own sauce
And I'm right behind him
Fuck a -year trap, work for forty
And you'll never get them forty years Back
Trying to make it as an artist, Could do it one of the hardest
I'm the type of nigga destined to Win in life
Regardless, I was taught that I Always
Had to finish what I started, so I'm Back
I know y'all need motivation to Rap
Clocked out, and I got straight to The track
If you gon' do it, you better do it to The max
Nigga
Better do it to the max
If you gon' do it, better do it to the Max
I'm a boss
I ain't never had a trap, nigga
Written by:
Leedel Calloway Farrior
Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
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