BYOB

[Verse 1: King ISO]
Rap been working, that is certain
Tracks I'm merking, cash disperssion on the daily
Imagine working back is hurting rap's your purpose
Lack the urge but you're amazing
Does that determine cash, deserve it
Back to serving at the nursing home to pay me
I snatch my shirt off, I had to work in the trash and sort it
Now back to verses (Boy you're crazy!)
I know it may seem back a worse kid
The more I think about it, yo it's actually perfect
'Cause I don't really see myself having worth in a job
I'm mad at 'cause that is worthless
So I pick up another pen and pad and purses
Plus I'm a producer I practice per kit
I had it mastered, I was that determined
My drive was massive before I had a permit
Hair was nappy I had to perm it
Pants saggin' like niggas had the word flipped
I could have been a stat like thermos
Instead I push the needle like the thermostat and had you burning
They used to point and laugh when I rapped at first and
I snuck in shows and body bagged their verses
Now I trek with the stars on some Captain Kirk shit
And they all on my team from the back like Hermit
And that barely scratched the surface
Homeless, jail, to war back to back plus
Searching for a break fast 9-to-5 can't take that
In other words, fuck flipping flapjacks at Perkins
J's on, Levis', snapback, my shirt crisp
I'm going on tour with a bag of merch prints
My dreams came true and I just had to work with
I had and honestly I'm glad it's working because...

[Hook: King ISO]
I'm a boss I ain't working for nobody B.Y.O.B
I'm getting faded finna have a celebration B.Y.O.B
I got a few bad chicks right here B.Y.O.B
Blowing on the kush counting up a bag B.Y.O.B (B.Y.O.B!)
I'm a boss I ain't working for nobody B.Y.O.B (B.Y.O.B!)
I'm getting faded finna have a celebration B.Y.O.B (B.Y.O.B!)
I got a few bad chicks right here B.Y.O.B (B.Y.O.B!)
Blowing on the kush counting up a bag B.Y.O.B

[Verse 2: King ISO]
I remember nothing wasn't working for me
Forget about somebody raw working for me
I was sick of living check to check
Becoming neck to neck with debt collectors searching for me
Breaking down a herb and serving perfect poorly
Getting mad at baby mama giving birth to shorty
And I didn't have a dollar to my name
So I got to make a change
It was 'bout to be a murder story
I vividly remember sitting inside the whip
As a delivery drive, percs was on me
Sipping on the Sudaf' they thought I was perc-ing homie
Trying to get a pack of dollars and a Gerber homie
Furthermore the outcome I would get laid off
Never took a day off, it hurt me homie
Fast forward I'm getting rap money
So the chick that fired me inside the restaurant now serving for me
Funny how the tables start turning towards the
Opposite directions, certainly
Enemies wanna be cool
Women with the double D boobs looking steady searching for me
Twerk it slowly
The way the ladies looking at me now, I bet you I can make a virgin horny
Could've been purging in purgatory
Your pussy like Persian, purring on me
Yeah, perfect homie
All the late nights and early mornings
Finally paid off truly, now to view me gotta have an observatory
Personally, purple rolling
I'm so high now, Earth, I'm soaring
Never be average, you're so boring
Glad I made it, perfect story
Because

[Hook: King ISO]
I'm a boss I ain't working for nobody B.Y.O.B
I'm getting faded finna have a celebration B.Y.O.B
I got a few bad chicks right here B.Y.O.B
Blowing on the kush counting up a bag B.Y.O.B (B.Y.O.B!)
I'm a boss I ain't working for nobody B.Y.O.B (B.Y.O.B!)
I'm getting faded finna have a celebration B.Y.O.B (B.Y.O.B!)
I got a few bad chicks right here B.Y.O.B (B.Y.O.B!)
Blowing on the kush counting up a bag B.Y.O.B

[Verse 3: Rittz]
I ain't had no bank account
I used to cash my check at Citgo
I ain't try'na get no gas
I kept my shit right above E
I used to be tired working doubles
Picking up my girl we had to split the tips in half
'Cause that's all we had to spend
I'm like a rat in this kitchen, the traps was set
I break my back for scraps, went back and swept this floor twice
Then the health inspector saying we ain't pass the test
He's 'bout to fire me, I had to kiss so much ass
Feet hurt, kneecaps are red
I keep scratching tickets hoping they match the winning numbers
I hit the bottom ain't nobody grabbed a net
To catch me when I fell
Real life Spider-man is swinging from the building casting webs
My girl smacked me, I grabbed her neck and let go
Dead broke, Us both cryin' on sheets on our mattress wet
A screaming match begins so now I'm cursin' at her mom
Worryin on hand me down furniture I'm on
Might be sittin on the curb and not come home
If I see the neighbors searching through my shit
I end up murdering someone
I was certain to become rich and famous making music
I was immature and young
It occurred to me, I won't ever make it
When you finally heard me on a song Box Chevy
Shit I had to work to get it on, now I'm ready
Twelve years later on a tour bus, I was making more but I'm balling hardly
Of course I be on a tour bus that was filled with roaches
At night I felt 'em crawling on me
Praying someone sign me, all of a sudden finally
Tech N9ne put me on, ever since I've been
Shining with the Snake and Bat
Soaking up game from Trav
And try'na be like them, B.Y.O.B

[Hook: King ISO & Rittz]
I'm a boss I ain't working for nobody B.Y.O.B
(Yeah, it's Rittz, bitch)
I'm getting faded finna have a celebration B.Y.O.B
(Sure as shit)
I got a few bad chicks right here B.Y.O.B
Blowing on the kush counting up a bag B.Y.O.B (B.Y.O.B!)
I'm a boss I ain't working for nobody B.Y.O.B (B.Y.O.B!)
I'm getting faded finna have a celebration B.Y.O.B (B.Y.O.B!)
I got a few bad chicks right here B.Y.O.B (B.Y.O.B!)
Blowing on the kush counting up a bag B.Y.O.B