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DON'T BE GONE (feat. Hit-Boy) letra


I’m in this bitch and I’m pressing
Accept the homies for who they are, same way they accept me
All the shit I accepted might’ve been misdirected
Nothing comes easy, it’s hard to deal with rejection
Will you still hold it down when I’m past my prime?
Fear of God levels in this design
Way before Hit resign, I go the distance slime
I had to flood them with packs
Gregory Hines with it, my nigga, I go 'til I’m tapped

Shuffle a deck of cards, and then I deal them flat
Put on a record, let off gunshots, then wheel it back
I’m a cold front, walk in the room and you can feel the draft
I’m not concentrate juice from a can, I’m a spill of carafe
The more the merrier, assorted berries
Yellow diamonds on the flip-a-bird finger, it’s pure canary
All in the details, make sure the cheesecake isn’t short a cherry

Look how many blueberries your muffin has and how many mine has
Yours is falling apart, I have nothing

I built a underground safe just to store the fetty
Slipping in the darkness, some fans thought it was sorta petty
How I made observations and broke the game down
Six albums with Nas, they thought we was from the same town
They forcing my hand
You cannot be stand-up if you in the court on the stand
Shit, I’m down for anything except for abortin' the plan

Sitting at the table, steak knife with a fork in my hand
Stuck to the script, I never dipped, others forfeit and ran
Wait 'til the down was at fourth and then ran
Bleeding out, I need this worse than you need it
I backflip into the script, don’t need to proofread it
Eighty-six to all the bums, I’m in a two seater
Hennessy jug with the handle on the two litre

If I tell em I'm the shit then I'm arrogant
I know a teaspoon from a soup spoon, I’m elegant
If this is any part of the Bible, it's the New Testament
Everything gon' work out, check out my regiment
A&Rs with BBLs and model measurements
Man, I'm glad I made my way in this game
Sign a new artist, the exec get a crazier chain
Trust me, nigga, I don't take none of y'all serious
They hand the keys to idiots and all of they affiliates

Never go broke, come on now, that's silliness
The more that I smoke, the smaller the feeling gets
The more the pepper, the spicier the chilli hits
Do a hundred plus on a motorbike then wheelie it
Evel Knievel stunts (How I’m going to make it?)
Uh (Get after me) bass rumble make the needle jump
I do inspection, I’m in a coupe with the roof naked
Two steppin’ on the loop section

Fuck 'em, we ball like: Snow on tha Bluff
And we ain't mixing this one, let's just go with the rough
You know the slang bang to the boogie
Go insane when I’m jugging, black slacks, chain with the hoodie
I can never let them Lenny Cooke me
I threw up dust like 'Bron and look at where it took me
Palm and trick dice, I’m holding a loaded fist
Sunken in a way back, sitting below the tints
The kicker is I got a few in my arsenal
I grew through the obstacles, I’m on my Hugo flow
I move like a Boss, you know
Oozing with sauce, you know I’m jingling
Sprinkle cheese on me, I’m a pasta bowl
I’m blowing smoke out the country, nigga, where Rastas grow
They question who did the dirty work, we responsible

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