Clouded Chris - World Up In Smoke

Chanel me down, Fresh Suit this some classy shit
Icy neck with ya wrist on some flashy shit
Smoke in the air like Bronny when i gas the spliff
Find me in a section toastin' with the baddest bitch
I lost it all and got it right bacc like a magic tricc
All my work on go like a package sent
All my women could be models on some pageant shit
I dream big, a lot of yall can't even imagine this
Grandma love me, so I can't be no average kid
I gotta step it up, I gotta make her proud of Chris
People judge your moves but don't know the half of this
Niggas fallin' off, they don't know what they passion is
Stress piling but you gotta run it up
You can rise or you can fall Me, I can't be stucc
Life be throwin' curve balls but I hit that bitch and run
I be shooting for the stars, first I aim
Then I buss (Bow)
Yeah and the work don't stop
And I'm feelin like Tyson the way I'm punching these cloccs
Big Dope on me, I just had to hug the blocc
And I'm tryna change the world so bitch I can't stop
The game cold, world up in smoke
You gotta know ya worth before anything sold
She say she down to ride, but she acting like a hoe
I know I ain't perfect and I got some room to grow
So I'm bacc in the Audi A4
Thinking about way bacc when a nigga was broke
No cake walk, I had to get it on my own
Living at the bottom, so the top I gotta go
So iii
Stacc stacc stacc stacc, Stacc it up
Ba, ba, ba , ba, Bag it up
In the bando, early mornings flip it, add it up
It's repetition but I do it til I had enough
Turn a Trey 5 to a QP, bitch I'm moving up
Movin' like a ghost, the game ima student of
World in smoke, people cold but ima rise above
Pressure Make Diamonds, you know what I'm made of
Friends working jobs and they just tryna make it
I got homies in the cell that I needa send some paper
Mama got bills, so I can't wait for later
Dodgin opps and the cops while I go and get this paper yeah
Being broke is not a op-tion
Classy Niggas even when we mob-bin
I'm aiming for the top, it ain't no stop-pin
The game cold, but you know I'm locced innnn
The game cold, world up in smoke
You gotta know ya worth before anything sold
She say she down to ride, but she acting like a hoe
I know I ain't perfect and I got some room to grow
So I'm bacc in the Audi A4
Thinking about way bacc when a nigga was broke
No cake walk, I had to get it on my own
Living at the bottom, so the top I gotta go
So iii
Stacc stacc stacc stacc, Stacc it up
Ba, ba, ba, ba, Bag it uppppp
Yeah, i'm a real fuccin hustler bayyyyyybeeeeeeeehhyeah
I'm a hu-hustler, i'm a mothafuccin' hustler yeah
Ayeee

Written by:
C Olds

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid, Songtrust Ave

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