L. Profit - Profit (92 God)

(You came close, but you never made it)
(And if you were gonna make it)
(You would have made it before now)
Yah yah yah yah
Yah yah yah yah
For real
Fo sho
For show and tell
Brought bars to my school like we go to jail
(Dezzi do this with his eyes closed)
For real
Fo sho
For show and tell
Brought bars to my school like we go to jail
‘Till we cop three rolls
Imma stalk these goals
Take a shot we blow
Stock up cop up big bills
Same type that made Sadame’s heat gold
She a cool breeze she softly blow
We often go
To places we ain't
She ride we rode
Prodigal son
And my city go dumb
And your girl on my bucket list
Pivot or sumn
Shit bout to blow up I’m shipping you sumn
Shit bout to blow up I’m shipping you sumn
Ion wanna say it
Ion wanna say it
You gon make me say it
You gon make me spray it
(Do do do do)
Ion wanna say it
Ion wanna say it
Profit be the greatest
God want me to make it
Yall gon have to say it
Yall gon have to say it
Yall gon have to say it for me
Yall gon have to say it for me
Yall gon have to say it
Everything I say is quotable
Everything you say adorable
Eyesight has always been horrible
Fuck it got vision like oracle
(I feel)
Real savage scummy
Real bandage scuffing
Deal damage husslin
Real cabbage coming
(Woah)
Dapper down for the cap and gown
Knew a bad shawty I might track her down
Dezzi snatch the bag for me
Have her down
What’s love?
What’s love?
What’s love?
What’s love?
Ion know no
Ion wanna say it
Ion wanna say it
You gon make me say it
You gon make me spray it
(Do do do do)
Ion wanna say it
Ion wanna say it
Profit be the greatest
God want me to make it
Yall gon have to say it
Yall gon have to say it
Yall gon have to say it for me
Yall gon have to say it for me
Yall gon have to say it for me
I got dreams of flying out to new york
What if Jay Z deny me?
Am I crazy for trying?
What if my Mamma don’t like me?
Are those commas still likely?
What if my girlfriend gon leave me?
I think my neck would be freezing
What if I never go platinum?
I feel like it’s time for action
Ghetty graffiti
Banksy ain’t ready to see me
Puttin confetti on ceilings
Why she upset it’s a CD?
(Hol up hol up hol up)
(Run that shit back Profit)
Ghetty graffiti
Banksy ain’t ready to see me
Puttin confetti on ceilings
Why she upset it’s a CD?
All you want Padek well fuck it I know I’ll do better than that
Who would know I would pull up to your funeral just to prove that I look better in black
92 God no abide by law
Won a Pulitzer off the “K…”
Still pulling her off that buss up watch
Cuz you know this piece is timeless
You want the heat?
Come talk to me
The Jodeci of shining
(Blue Blue Blue)
Blue print
On that new shit
(Uh)
Hov could be a client
So blessed I day dream bout shit that did happen
Only perfect as my friend caption
I know iss a hit if iss in captions
So I run numbers
And certify there
Come summers
Where certain guys do
Run from us
Get turnt ‘till I am one of us
Steada God’s chosen child
Walk away with gold
And a Demar DeRozen smile
(You you feel me uh)

Written by:
Luke Graham

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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