Love Or Doe

[Intro]
Do you make a lot of money out of your music?
Money?
I mean, what is a--how much is--how much is a lot of money to you?
Yeah, that's a good question. Have-have you made say millions of dollars?
No
Are you a rich man?
When you mean rich what you mean?
Do you have a lot of possessions? (oh) Lot of money in the bank?
Possession make you rich? I don’t-I don't have that type of richness
My riches is life
Forever

Yeah

[Hook]
When you grow up, what you wanna be?
When you grow up, what you wanna be?
When you grow up, what you wanna be?
When you grow up, what you wanna be?

[Verse:]
Hot in this rap shit, tape full of classics
Everything lavish. Post a backlit
Roll with a bad bitch, never see a casket
Rich nigga tactics, run the whole atlas
Fuck with a actress, money in the mattress
Louis V patches. Leather, no scratches
Dough by the batches, parkin' up mad whips
Uh
Everything sponsored, whole team conquer
Make ’em go bonkers, attitude pompous
Mission accomplished, paid for the mom crib
Hoes under armpits, barely even conscious
Sold out concerts, heard when I'm stompin'
Brooklyn to Compton. Award show song win
Trap card, black card
Wait a minute, naw man (Man, what you really wanna be, man?)
Neighborhood rapper, voice for the trapped ones
God to the black ones, far from the wack ones
All the right actions. Money, stacked 'em
Then I invest 'em. Little niggas, blessed 'em
Government stressed 'em. Police, check 'em
Grade A emblem, Most High sent him
Bent the tension, top ten mentions
Yeah
Real for the people, struggle for the evil
Best from the East Coast. Play, no cheat codes
Lyrically lethal, make ’em need Stro
Get a plate, eat slow. Flex less, teach mo’
Listeners each row. Look around, see growth
All about peace. No beef
No heat, no Hollywood shit
Everybody live equal
(Can you be that tho?) Man I'on know
This music shit is like findin’ balance on a Ripstick
Sometimes I'm on that make a hit tip
Other times I put the message in the rhymes, but that don't get dimed
Literally
Yo you might get a nickel, go triple pickle
Niggas minds is fickle, but they the ones you gotta get to
You make it then ya people say you let the devil get you
If we rich, we switch. But we broke, it's hope
Who is the real you, self?
Which crowd you tryna appeal to?

People from the ghetto, people from the projects
Suffering people, street people
All the (?) ghetto youth who know what it is to sing about suffering and reality
Because they live in this kind of environment
Some of them can’t afford a radio, so the only ting whey can listen to is the music

[Outro]
Yo
I just wanna be free, you feel me?
If I make a little dough please don't kill me
If I don't make dough would you still love me?
Rockin' the Versace ring 'cause um.....I gotta do, you know
That rapper thing
Real amends, spit the Gospel in the church with gold gates
Hip-Hop sent me
Feel like the pastor with the Bentley
God favors the poor, but I can't make more?
It's for ya soul but it cost ten dollars in stores
The revolution will be marketed
Pardon him, if he lose message in the music
This rap shit get confusin'
But if Jay-Z could do it, fuck it