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Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Big Sean
Performer
Steve Wyreman
Guitar
James Fauntleroy
Vocals
Kanye West
Vocals
Zeno Jones
Vocals
Myra Anderson
Vocals
Dj Mo Beatz
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Alexander Izquierdo
Songwriter
Sean Anderson
Songwriter
Dwane Weir II
Songwriter
Pharrell Williams
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Key Wane
Producer
Rob Kinelski
Mixing Engineer
Anna Ugarte
Assistant Recording Engineer
Maximilian Jaeger
Assistant Mixing Engineer
Dave Kutch
Mastering Engineer
Lyrics
Nothing is stopping you, stopping you, stopping you
Nothing is stopping you, stopping you, stopping you
Nothing is stopping you, stopping you, stopping you
Nothing is stopping you, stopping you, stopping you
I know I'ma get it, I just don't know how
Heart up on the stage, body in a crowd
Parents always tried to keep me home
But I can't get paid from the crib, so I'll be gone till we on
What's up, Finally Famous, I had it on my jacket way back in high school
Know I wanted to be in them night clubs
And not all off in that night school
So me and my **** real life'd it, every week we did them cyphers
At the radio, had a crazy flow, man the city ain't heard shit like this
I woke up early on a Saturday
Said I'ma cash my check and hit some ass today
Hit the bank, my **** called me like, "Go rap for Ye
He at the station, rap that shit that you rap everyday
Yeah, man that shit sound stupid
Then I hung up on his ass then called him back like, fuck, let's do it
I didn't even cash my check, man can't believe my ass pursuit it
I didn't even have no gas but somehow God just led me to it
Like, "Let's do it"
(When I heard the songs he was doing)
(Man, I knew he had to be on G.O.O.D Music)
Just to think, last night I was in Venice hugging bitches
Thanking God almighty condoms were invented
'Cause I had a yellow bone that could've came from out the Simpsons
Man, who claimed she never did it, yeah, right
But under these conditions she was with it
Then I hopped up on that red eye when I finished
I been gone for five hours, fuck, my head still spinning
Fuck the hotel up, shit, she probably still in it
Getting rest that I be missing, but fuck it, I'm on a mission
Flight delayed like thirty minutes, now that's the shit that I hate
Now it's 8:30, I'm officially late
For that 8:00 spot, I know the program director hot
But I spit a freestyle that's so cold
That everyone in that bitch forgot
Now I'm running late for a soundcheck
And I heard the line's already to the lot
Walking out the station, and that's around the time that I got stopped
By this shorty tryna rhyme
Manager said we ain't got time
But time to time, you gotta make time
When it's time for karma to come back around
I say "Aye dawg, what you got?"
"Aw dawg, Big Sean, thanks a lot
Um, alright, stay young, renegade, they been afraid
Tryna follow me, get in a maze
Leave you Minute Maid
Um, I'm like young black Eminem
It's a riddle and I'm repping that Michigan
Tryna stack my dividends, get my mom a new crib and them
And a buncha synonyms about how he was living and
I even let him finish it, I mean I can't lie, he was alright
But at his age, shit, so was I
So I give him my email on the fly and if his song's good, I reply, uh
Tell me what you know about dreams, what you know about having faith
In some thing you can't see, tell me how much do you believe
What you know about feeling something that you can't even touch
What you about smelling something that you can't even breathe?
But when the world drives you out and your gas tank is on E
And all the faith that you had, just ain't all the faith that you need
All the faith that I have, just ain't all the faith that I need
I'm sorry
Nothing is stopping you, stopping you, stopping you
Nothing is stopping you
Nothing is stopping you, stopping you, stopping you
Nothing is stopping you
Nothing is stopping you, stopping you, stopping you
Nothing is stopping you, stopping you, stopping you
Written by: Alexander Izquierdo, Dwane Weir II, Pharrell Williams, Sean Anderson