DJ SelexHost[singing] [sirens] [upbeat music]
Martin.
Media, what?
You should go ahead and pop some corn and grab a stool.
Your boy's about to break some news.
[upbeat music] All the numbers are final, no T-shirts, no vinyl.
Y'all about to make me richie like Lionel for real.
And that's the truth.
Sixteen hours ahead in Melbourne, I don't even know what's going on back home straight.
[singing] Aye.
I just gotta handle something bigger than us.
Triple S was really to show you my love and make sure you're good 'til the next time we meet up.
But now I gotta send it off.
Yeah.
It was like, go blow the dust off your plaques.
Go blow the dust off your plaques.
What was the year that they say yeah, it slaps? 'Cause I don't remember it going like that.
I don't remember one word of your raps.
I don't know nothing about you and them tracks.
Let's go.
Yeah.
I am, I am, I am.
Yeah.
Yeah.
I'm in a sold-out show with your girl on the riser.
I'm at the mob at Great Cliff, twenty cigars and they fucking my eyes up.
I am not better or wiser.
Future the Prince is my trusted advisor.
If it's up to me, I get everyone hit, I get everyone lined up.
If it's up to me, I've been clocking your pussy, man, everyone's time's up.
If it's up to me, if it's up to me, aye.
If it's up to me, then you all on the list, man, everyone's signed up.
If it's up to me, it's already made, I ain't making my mind up.
If it wasn't for me, reaching my hand, you never have climbed up.
Go blow the dust off your plaques.
What? Go blow the dust off your plaques.
What? Yeah.
Go blow the dust off your plaques.
What was the year that they say yeah, it slaps? 'Cause I don't remember it going like that.
I don't remember nothing about them raps.
I don't remember nothing.
Yeah.
Yeah.
Leave me out the comments, leave me out of the nonsense.
Speaking out of context.
People need some content.
Niggas trying to keep up.
Shit is not a contest.
Whipping bands concept.
Heaven sent, Godsend, least that's what my mom says.
Proof is in the progress.
Mind on the object.
Busy little motherfucker, you know how my job get.
Barking up the wrong tree, you know how the dogs get.
Haven't fallen off yet.
Come with a classic, they come around years later and say it's a sleeper.
The earrings are real, the Patek is real.
Why trust my ex for a feature? Deposit the money to Brenda Leticia or Linda Felicia.
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[singing] [sirens] [upbeat music]
Martin.
Media, what?
You should go ahead and pop some corn and grab a stool.
Your boy's about to break some news.
[upbeat music] All the numbers are final, no T-shirts, no vinyl.
Y'all about to make me richie like Lionel for real.
And that's the truth.
Sixteen hours ahead in Melbourne, I don't even know what's going on back home straight.
[singing] Aye.
I just gotta handle something bigger than us.
Triple S was really to show you my love and make sure you're good 'til the next time we meet up.
But now I gotta send it off.
Yeah.
It was like, go blow the dust off your plaques.
Go blow the dust off your plaques.
What was the year that they say yeah, it slaps? 'Cause I don't remember it going like that.
I don't remember one word of your raps.
I don't know nothing about you and them tracks.
Let's go.
Yeah.
I am, I am, I am.
Yeah.
Yeah.
I'm in a sold-out show with your girl on the riser.
I'm at the mob at Great Cliff, twenty cigars and they fucking my eyes up.
I am not better or wiser.
Future the Prince is my trusted advisor.
If it's up to me, I get everyone hit, I get everyone lined up.
If it's up to me, I've been clocking your pussy, man, everyone's time's up.
If it's up to me, if it's up to me, aye.
If it's up to me, then you all on the list, man, everyone's signed up.
If it's up to me, it's already made, I ain't making my mind up.
If it wasn't for me, reaching my hand, you never have climbed up.
Go blow the dust off your plaques.
What? Go blow the dust off your plaques.
What? Yeah.
Go blow the dust off your plaques.
What was the year that they say yeah, it slaps? 'Cause I don't remember it going like that.
I don't remember nothing about them raps.
I don't remember nothing.
Yeah.
Yeah.
Leave me out the comments, leave me out of the nonsense.
Speaking out of context.
People need some content.
Niggas trying to keep up.
Shit is not a contest.
Whipping bands concept.
Heaven sent, Godsend, least that's what my mom says.
Proof is in the progress.
Mind on the object.
Busy little motherfucker, you know how my job get.
Barking up the wrong tree, you know how the dogs get.
Haven't fallen off yet.
Come with a classic, they come around years later and say it's a sleeper.
The earrings are real, the Patek is real.
Why trust my ex for a feature? Deposit the money to Brenda Leticia or Linda Felicia.