757

[Chorus] "You think you the man?" I'm like "Yeah." Higher than that 757 in the air Mama always told me "get that money by yourself" I'm steady grinding and I'm going off the rails [Verse 1: Billy Marchiafava] Most these rappers hired ghost writers I just ghost ride the whip Riding dirty as it gets Baby, Billy never miss I'm not leaving the studio until I make a hit Don't call me on my cell phone, unless we talking chips 'Cause Billy need that motherfucking mula You trynna be the boss and it really don't suit ya Nikes on my feet, but I've never been a hoopa I tell these hoes call mе Mr. What's It To Ya 'Cause I got a bitch, I love that bitch Stay out my DMs I hit that flow switch They don't know what lanе I'mma be in I'm not a hype beast That silly price tag don't mean shit You bought a shirt, I bought a house We are different It's 6:30 in the morning I'm still up and recording I don't sleep, I'm never snoring Your bitch call me, you boring For breakfast I had breasts And for lunch I'll have cake By the time dinner comes around I'll clean up my plate [Chorus] "You think you the man?" I'm like "Yeah." Higher than that 757 in the air Mama always told me "get that money by yourself" I'm steady grinding and I'm going off the rails [Verse 2: Shotgun Willy] Yeah I spent three weeks of my summer Drunk under the sun in Greece Now I'm knee deep in the dumpster And my gut hurt 'cause I'm so hungry I just keep on getting dumber and dumber like Jim Carrey, uh Sometimes I wonder if this rap shit just ain't for me Bitch, let me breathe Mom stopped visiting Got caught popping a Flintstone vitamin, ouh Non-stop listening to Bob Ross talk about fixing my image, like ouh Head to the bank in a balaclava I need my pockets fatter than Billy Marchiafava [Verse 3: Billy Marchiafava] Five bands in the Venmo Ten bands in the Gmail That's business, huh? Everybody ask favors so my iPhone got a pager Leave me 'lone Got a new crib with a new elevator I remember days wanting that razor home And I boss up on 'em Couldn't stay broke forever, had to leave like autumn Three hundred million streams later And I'm still just getting started Analytics don't mean shit If you can't play a show and rock shit I'm 'boutta pop, bitch And I made rock lap dance And I make pop bitch Yeah