I Am

LETRA

I Am

(You'll fly too if you link up with Frenchie)
(Who dat, Trell?)
Uh, ayy, why the business sell?
Why the business sell?

Got a two-hundred boxes of purple, another hunnid coming
Got a hundred boxes of green goin' to the country
Told five come get the truck, and ya'll don't owe me nothing
Don't let these niggas kill you 'bout their dirty money
Don't let these niggas kill you 'bout no fuc*** chains
These people, they do anything for the fame
These people, they put anything on my name
But it's okay, yeah, it's okay

'Cause I am a motherfuckin' bottom boy survivor
And this is that real shit, that raw shit, they ride to
And l am the chosen one, the only one they bankin' on
And this is that real shit, that raw shit, they waiting on (On)
And what if your glass don't want you?
Uh, uh, uh, they waiting on
Uh, uh, uh, uh, uh
And what if your glass don't want you?
They waiting on, they waiting on, they waiting on

Damn, Flip Dog, I miss you, ni*** time flies
I gotta keep myself busy to keep it off my mind
I got a temper like my daddy, you could say it's true
But you know that I got that Godfather shit from you
Run the streets like the mafia
Go home and eat Tilapia
Or baked chicken with the cream sauce
This ten mil'll cut your dreams short, uh

Riding with my youngin', he got somethin' that will lift your stomach
If I sing it, or I sung it, best believe I done it
If your trap ain't jumpin', you should let us run it
A old ni*** up, get tied up if he get in the way
I was born a belt boy, the mafia run the game

And I am a motherfuckin' bottom boy survivor
And this is that real shit, that raw shit, they ride to
And l am the chosen one, the only one they bankin' on
And this is that real shit, that raw shit, they waiting on (On)
And what if your glass don't want you?
Uh, uh, uh, they waiting on
Uh, uh, uh, they waiting on
And what if your glass don't want you?
Uh, uh, uh, come on, come on, come on (Look)

Tryna follow me home, I'm in the rear view
Feds have follow me 'round deep-cover shit, f*** that other shit
Made a hundred this year, now, you can call my bluff
Crazy as it sounds, I'll break it down
Made a fifty on the road, doing shows, selling clothes
Made a five in the spot selling exotic bowls
Made a dub middle manning Kanye for the low
Now add a dub to that number that I told you before
They in the club throwing ones, but I can't get wit' it
I'm in the office plannin', talking, I'm going for the billy
Cuz screaming out belt, snatch the streets by their britches
Get right or get left, these niggas know the business

Sweet loyalty to the Don is strong, mind if it ain't Corson?
Then they gotta bury Corson, he was the best guy around
What about the people he murdered? What murder?