Featured In

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
JID
JID
Vocals
Tierra Whack
Tierra Whack
Vocals
BJ the Chicago Kid
BJ the Chicago Kid
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Tierra Whack
Tierra Whack
Songwriter
Destin Route
Destin Route
Songwriter
Bryan James Sledge
Bryan James Sledge
Songwriter
Thomas Brown
Thomas Brown
Songwriter
Tyrone Griffin Jr
Tyrone Griffin Jr
Songwriter
A. Hogan
A. Hogan
Songwriter
Frank Brim
Frank Brim
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Ty Dolla $ign
Ty Dolla $ign
Producer
Pluss
Pluss
Producer
Derek "MixedByAli" Ali
Derek "MixedByAli" Ali
Mixing Engineer
Cyrus "NOIS" Taghipour
Cyrus "NOIS" Taghipour
Mixing Engineer
Brandon Blatz
Brandon Blatz
Assistant Mixing Engineer
Andrew Stephen Keller
Andrew Stephen Keller
Recording Engineer
BAUTISTA RAFAEL
BAUTISTA RAFAEL
Recording Engineer
Cyrus Massoud Taghipour
Cyrus Massoud Taghipour
Mixing Engineer
Nicolas De Porcel
Nicolas De Porcel
Mastering Engineer
Thomas Brown
Thomas Brown
Producer

Lyrics

Started from the bottom, ****
I'm from the, I'm from the, I'm from the goddamn
Real stupid ass
Look, uh
**** with a whole lotta problems (Damn)
How I'm finna make to the top from the bottom?
Burying the bird in the bottle (Damn)
Mama said she finna get the belt or get the Bible
I can see a rival on arrival
He can let it sing like the bullets in the rifle
Anything to take a **** title, shit
Guess I'm an non-American Idol
Like, yes, I'm another **** they lied to
Turned a blind eye to
So in the meantime I'ma grind till I find you
Pull up on your set like tapedecks, rewind you
Remind you, I've been in my prime, I had to fine tune
Fuck a iTunes, come to my show, get a mindful
Never pork my fork, **** is swine flu
Far as you rap dorks, get in a line
Don't get outta line, I'm outta my muh'fuckin' mind
More than most of the time
Bet they won't press, but they close to the line
Throwin' rocks at a star, hope he respond
'Cause if we gon' step, never stop on a dime
And if that's yo' opp then I'm Optimus Prime
Pray to God, now I'm watching for signs
The weed crackle like the pops on a vinyl
Hand me that, handy Glock for survival
Hit me back from the block with the hostiles
They think they one till the real one walk in the room
That's right, I said it
They think they one till the real one walk in the room
Now let that shit marinate
Yeah, let that shit marinate
Hold on, let me get a tight grip
Every time your fans see me they askin' to take pics
Been the head of my class since I was grade six
If it don't make me money, it prolly don't make sense
I'm so good at making you second-guess yourself
I be smokin' **** and it affects m-
Sick with it, I shifted it, I'm quick with it
Maybe you should sit with it, Jerry Jerry moment
I bury my opponent, they can't believe I wrote it
I be goin' ham-ster rodent
Had a soul and you sold it, I'm bloated and devoted
Once they let that sink in, they gon' all say I floated
You need to work harder if your money can be folded
Better and you know it
Why would you compete?
Really I be chillin' 'cause I'm known to overheat
Oh, you said you smell something? Well it must be defeat
You can bring your friends, even bring your mans
Hundred thousand, man, it don't matter, man
We still gettin' in just to get it in
They think they one till the real one walk in the room
That's right, I said it
They think they one till the real one walk in the room
Now let that shit marinate
Yeah, let that shit marinate
Written by: A. Hogan, Bryan James Sledge, Destin Route, Frank "Nitty" Brim, Fred A. Jr. Wesley, James Brown, James Starks, Thomas Brown, Tierra Whack, Tyrone Griffin Jr
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