Arm & A Leg (Year 5) Lyrics

I mean, I had to come back eventually, I couldn't leave y'all out forever, I mean

But I ain't really leave in the first place, wasn't really nothing to come back from

Yeah, yeah I hit the bong before I come in the studio, work in this shit

Feeling real tired right now, I just wrote me some rhymes, feel like I popped a perk in this bitch

This pen, this paper, this microphone, all that I got to go talk to, sometimes I feel like they listening

better than niggas that say that they got you

Waking up and I'm chasing that dog food

The money, the love, and everything in between, whatever come with a good mood

To whom much is given then way more is tested

Okay, well, you see how I got through

Might've changed, okay, but you not new

You the same, ain't nothing good bout what you doing, don't even got business in my shoes

Huh, wouldn't even try to

Yeah, niggas ain't even mature all the way, trying to tell me them big moves

What? You only been out two minutes, I don't

see no scrapes or a lil' bruise

I never seen competition, I stay at the front of the race, never got two

I lost an arm and a leg, never got glue

Yeah, niggas be crying and shit, feel like a veteran, I had to earn my stripes, had to get on the field this year five with this

Eighteen, I was a rookie, I dropped out of college, I didn't know what time it is

Nineteen, I got my own crib and got my own whip and bought my own shit, promise you couldn't tell me how it go

Twenty years old and got way more difficult, physical, seeing more money than ever before

Went back to school cause a nigga was bored, would ace all my test and then roll up some smoke

Twenty-one, didn't really talk much to anyone, niggas would think I was dead or a ghost

Twenty-two, I was just working too hard for myself, I

was good if my bank account grow

Twenty-three, had to put enemies under me, cut off the ties with the fakes and the phonies and people that hold me

No one controls me, I had to get everything on my lonely, huh

Went back and got that degree, pen got expensive and flow so unique

You know what that mean?

You gotta pay fees for me to rap on your beats, huh

Yeah, I hit the bong before I come in the studio, work in this shit

Feeling real tired right now, I just wrote me some rhymes, feel like I popped a perk in this bitch

This pen, this paper, this microphone, all that I got to go talk to, sometimes I feel like they listening

better than niggas that say that they got you

Waking up and I'm chasing that dog food

The money, the love, and everything in between, whatever come with a good mood

To whom much is given then way more is tested

Okay, well, you see how I got through

Might've changed, okay, but you not new

You the same, ain't nothing good bout what you doing, don't even got business in my shoes