[Intro: Cordae]
My fuckin' Dodge Stratus
Deadass
Expressing myself
Oh my god, I'm about to
[Verse 1: Cordae]
Uh, where did the love go?
It seems like the world filled with hatred
God forbid that you make it and your bank account ain't basic
Your girl above average, you a person with some status
You switch to a Ferrari from a fuckin' Dodge Stratus
They saying that you changed, they can't understand or grasp it
Goddamn what a tragic
Should've saw it like magic
If it ever disappear, realize who really here
The fake love and real love is all crystal clear
I can see that shit from mileage away
Talkin' shit, but always smilе in my face
Never been proudеr to say
I don't want no fake friends on some industry shit
Being real is one way to gain enemies quick
[Chorus: Brent Faiyaz & Cordae]
Ooh (Mmm), had to shake these demons up off of me
Ooh (Mmm-mmm), don't want shit niggas offerin'
Ooh (ooh yeah), another lost boy is awful
She just struck a chord, like guitar, for me
Found a new joy, I thank God for it
[Verse 2: Cordae]
I know the bills late, rent is due, shitty job interviews
So when a nigga vent to you
My problems seem minuscule
How dare I complain about the spoils of fame
It's a nigga that will crash out to get up in my lane
See I don't have a therapist, this rap shit I cherish it
And venting on the mic quite frankly is embarrassing
But this the only way I can express myself
We all tryna find the answers, I can't guess myself
Last year I was broke as fuck and doors wouldn't open up
Now I can't roll with us, somebody grab the robituss', I'm sick of this
Feeling caged in like Nicholas
Blood pressure high, stress levels is ridiculous
But never woe is me, this is therapeutic poetry
And I don't tell nobody about my problems, so hopefully
This will have a mothafuckin' snowball effect
Don't mope all depressed, just know y'all is blessed
One love
[Bridge: Logic & Brent Faiyaz]
Yeah, yeah
(Ooh-ah, save yourself)
Rattpack, motherfucker, what's up?
(Ooh-ah)
Haha, you know you gotta put a stamp on it, ayy
(Don't need no help)
[Verse 3: Logic]
Destined for a life behind bars
But now where I'm living is gated, I made it
Made million on millions I'm elated
But never outdated I move with the times
Do whatever suits me like Louis Vuitton, one of a kind, the don
A legend that's destined to pass the baton and so on
I don't mean to go on, but (Go on), okay, fine
I'ma get mine
No shade let me shine in due time
My rhyme is nothing but classic
Most people fake, nothing but plastic get ya ass kicked
Quick take a sip
Bitches know I'm packin like a trip
Now get the fuck off my dick, I'm just a man
Bullshit make me sick, good pussy make me cum
Most never make it where I'm from
Feel these kicks in my soul
Getting money was the goal now its be a good person
What you thinkin' 'bout? What you thinkin' 'bout?
What you thinkin' 'bout, Bobby?
[Outro: Brent Faiyaz]
Yeah
Ooh-ah, save yourself
Ooh-ah, don't need no help
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