LAX

[Intro: Dom Kennedy]

Yeah

(Mike & Keys)

Ayy

[Verse 1: Dom Kennedy]

Writing every day for seven years

It was hard but fuck it, still worth it because it led us here

Two of everything like Noah's Ark

I’m the 21st century Mozart and you'll get blown apart

I don't like many rappers really

They start acting silly

Ask your new bitch, man, she gotta feel me

I’ve been framed by the dirty opps

They been running with our style for years, I'm here to take my spot

While they perpetrate gangsta

I'll be counting twenty G's in Chase with the banker

Kid, this Other People's Money

When I come out if it's cloudy, I'm gon' make that shit sunny

I love a good, hard rap song

No autotune, nobody crying all on the microphone

If you need a ghostwriter, you are not hot

She finna fly to LAX just to give me top

Sitting on Highland up at Fat Sal’s

I’m the golden child mixed with Kevin Liles

Down for everything but backing down

Call me Ron Artest how I move the crowd (Uh)

He a slut, he a ho, he a freak

Got a different look every day of the week

See the thing about me is I'm serious

My dream was to fill a shoebox with all Benjamins

[Verse 2: Frank$]

Ugh, I could never sell my piece, it ain’t no feat

Solidified in the city 'cause of old beef

Coming live from these streets on these soul beats

Pockets used to be on E, now it's OD

Ugh, I thank God I'm a boss

I used to walk then I spent a car on the cross

Aaliyah with these bags ’cause I'm back and I'm forth

Other People Money on track to the Forbes

[Interlude]

(Other People's Money)

I like that (Hahaha)

[Verse 3: Dom Kennedy]

The truth you're now hearing and I'm God-fearing

I be power steering in something wicked

Careful on depreciating assets

If it's not an AMG, they could send it back

Big Daddy Kane said don't half step

I'ma rep the set 'til my last breath

Are you gon' fold when it's crunch time?

Did you have on Chuck Taylors in the lunch line

Or the new Ken Griffeys if I switched up

I think radio should pick us up

It's the, fitted-wearing, nothing less than McLaren

If we talking foreign, those keep girls staring

Uh, you know I be abusing 'em

The best out right now over drums

This real nigga shit don't got a off button

You looking good, baby, take off something

Send it through the mail, watch it triple sales

White tuxedo, socks pastel

I'm the one like Booker for the Suns

Shorty had low self-esteem, I coached her up

Told her she don't need likes, we know what's up

I know that pussy is fire, a molotov

Cocktails, talking over money trails

Hope our kids see college, grow up, run for mayor

[Outro: Dom Kennedy]

Gotta keep rolling through the sunshine

But I can't keep ducking from the one-time

If the beats keep coming, I'ma get mine

Everything I wanted in my lifetime

Gotta keep rolling through the sunshine

But I can't keep ducking from the one-time

If the beats keep coming, I'ma get mine

Everything I wanted in my lifetime

(Mike and Keys)