Bobby Fishscale - MADE IT

You can call me Mike-Will 'cause I motherfuckin' made it
Want me to go back to the old me, you motherfuckin' crazy
I ain't beefin' with you niggas, too much money to be chasin'
It ain't nobody else fault that your hustle game lazy
I'm makin' songs everyday, still re-in' up with plates
I was fifteen the first time I ate Frosted Flakes
I made it from where you would get your ass murked if you play
Made it out that play, thought they'd congratulate but they hate

How you made it through the trenches?
How you made it through the violence?
How you made it to the Roc? They think I'm Illuminati
I had junkies at the door, I had momma house crowded
Couldn't learn about division, had to worry 'bout dyin'
Flashback, brother funeral, still remember momma cryin'
When I just say the line, reach down and touch the iron
I made it out bussin' bike, 38's, Draco's, and 9's
When I think about this shit, I could've died ninety times

You can call me Mike-Will 'cause I motherfuckin' made it
Want me to go back to the old me, you motherfuckin' crazy
I ain't beefin' with you niggas, too much money to be chasin'
It ain't nobody else fault that your hustle game lazy
I'm makin' songs everyday, still re-in' up with plates
I was fifteen the first time I ate Frosted Flakes
I made it from where you would get your ass murked if you play
Made it out that play, thought they'd congratulate but they hate

Had to make my own dope, had to make my own strand
Hit 'em with them fishy feet, had to make my own dance
Had to buck the landlord, we was living off the land
Had believe in myself, no one want give Fish a chance
When you were paying twenty-three, I was gettin' 'em for a band
You were gettin' dropped at school, I was holdin' grandma hand
She was walkin' in the heat, AC, a church fan
I was sweating in my sleep, we ain't even have a fan

You can call me Mike-Will 'cause I motherfuckin' made it
Want me to go back to the old me, you motherfuckin' crazy
I ain't beefin' with you niggas, too much money to be chasin'
It ain't nobody else fault that your hustle game lazy
I'm makin' songs everyday, still re-in' up with plates
I was fifteen the first time I ate Frosted Flakes
I made it from where you would get your ass murked if you play
Made it out that play, thought they'd congratulate but they hate

Written by:
Darryl Thomas

Publisher:
Lyrics © Exploration Group LLC

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