Lay Up lyrics

[Verse 1: Hit Boy]
Coming from the corner of the IE now my stats peaking
To paying a quarter milly in tax when its that season
I'm snapping for that reason, I am on my flat feet sh*t
You gotta pay up, I swear it ain't no catchiness
This is a layup
Young Kobe with the rock except I play out in Paris
I'm really talking 'bout the R.O.C
Made my way out the ferris and now I'm wheeling something, stop
n*ggas claiming they wavy and they ain't even left the dock
Check the clock n*gga
My beats harder than times is
n*ggas struggle to eat and they can see where Barack lives
n*ggas stay with the heat but steady freeze at they mom crib
Cousin staying for weeks, room feel like a mosh pit
But now I promise when we go pop tags, this sh*t is crazy
Running through Aloha Rag like it was Macy's
Working at my own pace now, I'm just stuck to winning
And I am just beginning
And tell me who you know fresher than Hit giving the facts
I'm here to take the world and I ain't giving it back
Cause I made 500 off of them beats before 22
Emmett Smith with my benefits on all these other dudes
Hit the shift with the quickness right in front of you
I been the sh*t and I'm in this b*tch, so in other news
I'm moving fast n*gga peep my revenue
All about that new class like I switched my schedule, gone
[Verse 2: Oktane]
HS87 the top is the only space for us
So make like your girlfriends face and give me some space to bust
I don't know what you doing, just know we don't get no sleep
F your girlfriends sister, your main chick and the police
Young god of the flow all you other n*ggas preachers
Principal of the building at most you n*ggas is teachers, hah
These rappers watching me like I'm supposed to dance
Your girl supposed to glance because I'm tight as Oprah's yoga pants
I'm just celebrating life with every n*gga that I came with
All my n*ggas ball you ain't got a razor to shave with
Everybody want to eat and not wash the dishes they ate with
But when you paid just call a maid, now watch greatness
If you n*ggas fly I'd rather walk
And if you n*ggas doing it I rather talk
I eat n*ggas you wouldn't last where I came from
And you n*ggas want that fire so here Oktane come
Okay I'm way too high up above these n*ggas and way too far ahead of them
Like clicker pencils my sickest n*ggas will put that lead in ya
Rappers try to down me like "that lil' n*gga getting better bruh"
I'm so boss, I'm dope, awesome, incredible, tight, et cetera
Oktane Hussein and Bishop Bin Laden
Supreme n*ggas my team keep everything sovereign
Young n*ggas in all black that ya'll duck from
You know the clique, HS 86 + 1
I'm gone
[Verse 3: Price Tag]
It's time to pay homage, to my n*ggas locked up in bondage
I leave you n*ggas astonished with every word that I vomit
You n*ggas ain't rhyming, you failing that whole assignment
I hit the strip club make it rain and change up the climate
I'm off of the beef, you call for the beef then I call for the heat
And leave you scarred like the mark of the beast
Now call for your priest
High School Musical, you rappers all actors
If I leave the game you rappers is all bast*rds
Hustling backwards, I'm taking the cream route
n*ggas saying they the truth with this rapping I need proof
I'm feeling so good Imma cop me a cream coupe
And pull up with some white Nikes, gold chains and a jean suit
Make 10 mill, blow 6 and bury 4
For my enemies them guns get drew to bury more
I pull up with the doors off, call it drowsy
Get it? Doze off, drowsy
Mane these rappers lousy, I'm outtie
Price