We Blessed

[Intro] Uh Jansport Check Yeah [Verse 1: Dom Kennedy] Hop out the shadows and straight lead the race Looking at the formation and I could read the play On the guitar riff you in my paw prints Big dog, don’t cross the middle again Ringling Brothers should hire you suckas A whole fish and minced garlic, you chicken McNuggets Stop with all the surface rapping Where would you be without fashion? I see you taking shots at the captain Cause I don’t ass kiss you be low average When it comes this sport you ain’t my fabric Patent leather rap bars that game don’t travel Me? I’m coming straight from the gravel Y3’s on, everyday [?] Pro Tools love when I load something up Underpaid really I did it for the love No nomination or bottles mailed from Puff And back to [?] yelling “pour me up” I wonder what they got in the sake that make these rap niggas think they could stop me That make these broke hoes think they could tax me Fat in the ass cheeks, you need you a athlete Me, I’m thug that skipped class Supreme bag, Ipad, a little cash I do this for Phil when I feel bad That was my nigga for real Uh, you think I give a fuck about a fashion nova? I kick her out as soon as I’m done fucking on her I’m sick like bronchitis and stuffy noses Buy her a dozen roses pull off with the chauffeur AK gon laugh when he hear this smash He know my shit real and I hate to brag They think I’m solo but I got the wham I put that on Crenshaw and Vernon Ave, we blessed [Verse 2: Hit-Boy] This shit working out better than we planned it out In France only french I know is don't panic Coming heavy handed open palm like Nip at the staples Walk into [?] and spot and drop 10 on the table Big whip the leather soft like a kiss from an angel Man this niggas disabled all deception and fables [?] knew shit since I crept through In ‘92 on real had a nine like [?] You was in your hometown and let them niggas press you Teaching niggas how to move, I might invest in a school And you know I snap like a model next to a pool She let me get her in trouble It was cold in ATL, I went and copped the gucci bubble Player coach with my niggas plottin’ in a huddle It’s a victory, a landslide Lit like a flashlight Keeping the fam right, yall playing from the backfire [Outro] For the love For the love, for the love For the love Just for the love Hit Boy For the love Dom Kennedy For the love Just for the love Dollar sign Courtesy of Half-A-Mil Yeah Stacking money to the ceiling You a lame so you wouldn’t know the feeling Stacking money to the ceiling You lame so you wouldn’t know the feeling For the love Mixed by [?]