Aftermath lyrics

[Verse 1]
Hey
Lately I been on my f*ckin' sh*t
It's no competition who f*ckin' with me
This rap sh*t, I run it, I'm blowin' this money
These fifties and hunnids ain't nothin' to me
I want the royalty, I want the loyalty
Puttin' up money for lawyer fees
'Cause I know me, man, I got a bad temper
Put one these rap n*ggas right in a blender
PnB: I'm who they'll always remember
'Cause I be killin' sh*t, I spit that realest sh*t
'Cause I done did this sh*t, I'm on that different sh*t
Copyright all my sh*t, these n*ggas stealing sh*t
I been feelin' like 2Pac and sh*t
All eyes on me, yeah they watchin' sh*t
Study my moves, tryna see what I know
Like, "How the f*ck he get so poppin' quick?"
Got a lot of sh*t that's on my mind
Got a lot of sh*t that's on my plate
Gotta feed the fam, gotta feed the hood
So I'm up and down that interstate
Doing shows, havin' different meetings
In the studio, I been barely sleepin'
Smokin' all this dope, I been barely eatin'
In a different city every f*ckin' weekend
[Verse 2]
Hey
I'm your favorite rapper's favorite rapper
I go in the booth and make it happen
It's amazing how this sh*t just happens
Finesse the track without no f*ckin' practice
Lately I get in the booth and I cook up a hit
I'm rollin', I really can't miss
These b*tches, they all on my di*k 'cause they know that I'm 'bout to be rich
I'm 'bout to be rich ('bout to be rich, hey)
Blowin' money on stupid sh*t
Me and my n*ggas strapped up in the rag top
But we all on that ruthless sh*t
b*tches, I'm pickin' and choosin' sh*t
I'm hittin' b*tches in twos and sh*t
I swear my life on some movie sh*t
'Bout to call Chop up to shoot this sh*t, damn

[Interlude]
Hey Chop, get the mo'f*ckin' camera ready, n*gga. Let's make a mo'f*ckin' movie, n*gga. Movie time. Where my dope at n*gga? I might get high, let's do this sh*t

[Verse 3]
Hey
Cash rules everything around me
So you know I keep that thing around me
Real n*ggas, yeah, they stay around me
f*ck n*ggas, stay the f*ck from 'round me
Hey, I'm 'bout to go to Miami
Hey, cop a new lay for the Grammys
Hey, I'm cashin' out with my family
Hey, f*ck you, you ain't with the family
When I come through, better cuff your b*tch
'Cause I'm the type of n*gga that'll f*ck your b*tch
Sing to the pus*y, do my thing to the pus*y
And we can get into some other sh*t
Got guns, got clips, you ain't duckin' sh*t
This for all the pus*y n*ggas on that selfish sh*t
Goddamn lil' homie, why you love the b*tch?
You gon' die for the pus*y? Well, f*ck it then
Shot got the MAC with the rubber grip
That mean it ain't no more rumblin'
He gon' come through and start cuttin' sh*t
Plus we got Kev in the cut and sh*t
Damn!