Sweetapple Wes - f t . f o r t i t u d e

(Mic check one, two) Midnight moods
I seclude at the crib, so glued
Mind grew like fortitude for the tunes
Subdue fools who tryna intrude
Dudes still getting middled like interludes
Thots consumed
Out this cocoon finna bloom
So surreal Wes Pha-rrel up in Neptune
Interject, sexing in jets soon
George Jetson, kicking you bitches out my space
Stay awake, in the wake of greatness
Sick flow, rhyme cold, still no patience
For those all spitting the same shit
So lame and basic, they faking
Just wanna be famous and
Claiming they paid
Like them slots out in Vegas
I'm Sick of em talking
They all just Tik Toking
And quickly forgotten
Just rotten, and spreadin' their toxins
It's really a problem
Like dog food in Paulding
Thinking you poppin' for copping n' robbing
Just leading the youth to their coffins
Stuck in a rock and a hard place
Movin weight only way to move away
You ain't deranged
Don't rap the same
Ya whole façade is fake
Ha ha, fucking lames, yea
Been moving things
But Been doing me
Cash don't rule a fucking thing round me
Ay, been moving things
Never things move me, oh
Cash don't rule a fucking thing round me
Ay, been moving things
Never things move me, cuz
Cash don't rule a fucking thing round me
Round me, (Round me) round me
(Round me ay) Cash don't rule a fucking thing round me
Round me, (Round me) round me
(Round me) said
Cash don't rule a fucking thing round me

Written by:
Wesley Sweetapple

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

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