Smell of Success ft. Cabrera Lyrics

This the smell of success

Ain't hard to tell em who next

I'm raising hell I'm possessed

Need to excel fuck the rest

I'm living well not much stress

Cuz by myself been the best

Don't need no help I'm obsessed

All with that smell of success

Try to catch the scent, it's accurate

I'm of that descent that has to blend

The smell of hard grind with want for extravagance

I promise I ain't get this good on accident

I snatch the trends, and cut through ones that had to end

That's why there's never-ending styles that Jag invent

Energy I put in you can't imagine it

You give your all and you couldn't even match a tenth

Now the match is lit, on fire just to match the wits

Me winning this much, they think the match is fixed

But I just built a home inside the practice gym

And kept this shit a thou-wow like a stack a tens

So me achieving bitch you can't prevent

I get heated then I have to vent

I'm a big deal, watch the way that that motherfucking max extend

Cuz lengths I go, nobody reaching that extent

So bring the action in, and what's happening

Everything gold platinum check the packaging

The boy ravishing, this whole game I be ravaging

Shit's godly what I'm averaging

Forever damaging

Opposition I go bash em in

Routines in the endzone, know I'm maddening

They get a sniff of the scent and all start panicking

Cuz soon as you think I'm gone, then I'm back again

This the smell of success

Ain't hard to tell em who next

I'm raising hell I'm possessed

Need to excel fuck the rest

I'm living well not much stress

Cuz by myself been the best

Don't need no help I'm obsessed

All with that smell of success

See me I started with less

That's why you don't see me stressed

Y'all playing checkers, this chess

All praise to God cuz I'm blessed

All praise to God cuz I'm next

Aim for the dome, not the vest

I do this all for the set

They better show me respect

Hold up, you know it's finna go up

Got my cleats on so the track getting tore up

You know they all sweating when I show up

Maybe I should slow up, nah tell the boys to pour up

Tell the boys, to hop in the runner

Cold in the winter but we hot in the summer

All these boys, wish they was Gunna

Me and Jag keep it real, they hate when we run up

They don't got they own style so they hating on the come up

Mad that we smooth like butter

Mad we could take they girl number

Mad that we stunting but we humble

Mad that we ain't afraid to rumble

They don't want us in the game, they don't want us in the field

Hating from the bench cuz they know we got skill

Gotta watch huh, even when you run drills

Be your own teammates that be going for the kill

Be your own mans, tryna kill you with the hit stick

Always on that switch shit

Talk shit, and move hella mischief

Keep your eye out, be aware for the quick diss

They just hating, cuz they stuff is simplistic

Know I come with the business

Know I roll with the misfits

Bag full of tools, you can tell the opps it's Christmas

This the smell of success

Ain't hard to tell em who next

I'm raising hell I'm possessed

Need to excel fuck the rest

I'm living well not much stress

Cuz by myself been the best

Don't need no help I'm obsessed

All with that smell of success