Can't play the backfield no more
I just don't...belong...oh

Member of a fly society
Styles, I got several varieties
As a child this guy memorized
Scarface in its entirety Motherfucka you knoww

For all of the bitches I might take home
Spray my shirt down, Dolce & Gabbana cologne
Comin down like my homeboys from Houston
Got my celly on silent, I'm ignoring my phone
Diamonds, diamonds on my band 'cause that's right where they belong
Like a trumpet or some cymbals or a set of trombones
Your bitch chose to roam in the Spitta zone
Now you're drunk watching E.T, wishing she phone home
But deep in your heart, you're knowing she won't
Cause I'm a different type of n***a and that's just what she wants
Groundbreaking, Dr. Jay's first dunk
Stealing bases Willy Mays, I'm gone
Can't play the backfield no more
I just don't think that's where I belong, I do better on my own
Swag crucial, honestly, it gotta be
'Cause n***as that you listening to probably stole they style from me
Bitter? never, I come up with something better, have to catch
An elevator all the way up to my level
Playin Metal Gear Solid on the PlayStation 3 for six hours
My girl in the bedroom sleep but I'm not tired
I would call over a couple of my pilots
But them n***as live, they don't know how to be quiet
Shorty gonna wake up and come up in here wilding
Hollering like Keisha did Tommy
If you ain't see Belly, you don't nothin about it
What else can you tell me but my flow so polished
Cook it up a notch with the rhyming
Trynna bury spitta in the grave at the bottom, climbed up out it
Knock you in the same hole and stand on top it
Consistent flow, Currensy the hot-spitta stay so on topic
Other n***as lost they need to see the golden compass
Brother, I'm a boss like Ross
Spitta n***a hot like sauce
At the And One game breaking motherfuckas off
I had a good job I thought
But I couldn't get along with the people in charge
I grabbed my timecard, punched out, I'm off
Soft-spoken but a n***a not soft
Not at all, real n***as stand tall for something
Make sure I don't fall for nothing
In this game, it's pain for the up and coming
No handouts 'cause n***as don't owe you nothing
Gotta do it for dolo
Flashbacks to the conversation
Took place between Face and Manolo
The world chico and everything in it
I said it, I meant it, I get it, I spend it
Comfortable living 'til I'm motherfucking finished
If I'm in it then you know it's not tinted
If I'm in it, know it got a nice engine
You could be a mile away and still hear it
That's classic American muscle
Store my bitches numbers in a iPod shuffle
I call her over to cut her, you call her over to cuddle
Knock youself out boy, you can't knock my hustle
I'm fresh, dressed like a million bucks
Labels offering checks for a million bucks
Ask Roddie if he thought a million was enough
He said yes 'cause he can hit the streets and triple it up
I'm a member of a fly society
Styles I got several varieties
As a child, this guy memorized Scarface in its entirety
'80s drug era inspired me
That's why I dress how I dress, walk how I walk
That's why I rep what I rep, talk how I talk
Two rope chains both of them gold
I got a swagga like I just came home, woah
I'm a member of a fly society
Styles, I got several varieties
As a child this guy memorized Scarface in its entirety
'80s drug era inspired me
That's why I dress how I dress
Walk how I walk
That's why I rep what I rep
Talk how I talk
Two rope chains both of them gold
I got a swagga like I just came home woah
Where haven't we been yet (Where haven't we been yet)
Motherfucka You Know
You see them airplanes...