Lyrics
(You can go your own way)
(Or leave me)
(You can go your own way)
(Or leave me, baby)
Uh, yeah
I can tell you ain't about to win, shawty
Yeah, I can tell you ain't about to win, uh
I can tell you ain't about to win, shawty
Keep them trucks up on the railing just a little bit longer
Landing make you stronger
Skin to skin with everything I pondered
So we don't take dishonor for that
Run up my commas, out the way and it won't be a problem
All my brothers climbing, we repellent to the bottom
Every second spent to never have another autumn
That was back when every day was solemn
Now they falling under me, I'm leading every column
Meter doing jumping jacks, I'm leaning on the pedal
So much steam left on the asphalt, they fiending to say hello
Every season, I'ma blast off and reach that different level
Got my head up on a swivel and my hand close to the metal
Get the medal (yeah)
Bring it back to Largo, that P.G. Baby never settle (nah)
Easy day to get him silent tryna meddle (that's right, yeah)
Veil adjacent to the pot, you bet not touch it 'til it settle
And I'm hitting every shot, boy, that's them fuckin' fundamentals
Push it with conviction, hit this mission on the code
If they said that Veil was missing, that shit fiction on my soul
Ain't no permission, I envision giving me a simple road
I'm gon' take that trek alone
I'm gon' get it back in gold
Never fitting in that mold
My reflection one of one, these niggas sectioned into rows (yeah)
My perception one and done, it's to the next soon as you fold
I attest, I'm at they neck, I'm right above they collarbone
Uh, yeah, look, alright, wait
Bitch, I can't trip 'bout shit 'cause I've fallen
Better feed my kin if you think about calling
I can tell you ain't about to win 'cause you stalling
I can tell you ain't about to win (uh, yeah)
Wait, bitch, I can't trip 'bout shit 'cause I've fallen
Better feed my kin if you think about calling
I can tell you ain't about to win 'cause you stalling
I can tell you ain't about to win, uh
Uh, yeah
I can tell you ain't about to win, uh, yeah, yeah
I can tell you ain't about to win, yeah
I can tell you ain't about to win, uh (yeah)
Swim good through my stream of consciousness, so ponder this
Wondering what it was like to grow up in my pond I guess
Life is just a sandy beach, it's sitting on the sands of time
So with these mighty hands of mine, I'm close to Adam's most divine
Float the mind on banks of memories, we had no chimneys
It's always hot, frozen cups and quarter juices hit the spot
Almost forgot, football in front the crib with no socks
And barely no shoes, running back and forth on the block
With all the locals
Fist fights had us all falling out with each other
It's silly 'cause they my niggas but really they all my brothers
In turn they all made me tougher but rougher around the edges
But most importantly see what's greater over the hedges
My name is DC, baby, I ain't from D.C. Baby
My dawg from PG, baby, and I'm from that Z3, baby
Carol City stand up (stand up), Dade County stand up (stand up)
You don't wanna drown in this wave
Throw your hands up
Bitch, I can't trip 'bout shit 'cause I've fallen
Better feed my kin if you think about calling
I can tell you ain't about to win 'cause you stalling
I can tell you ain't about to win (uh, yeah)
Wait, bitch, I can't trip 'bout shit 'cause I've fallen
Better feed my kin if you think about calling
I can tell you ain't about to win 'cause you stalling
I can tell you ain't about to win, uh (uh)
Uh, yeah
I can tell you ain't about to win, shawty
Yeah, I can tell you ain't about to win, uh
I can tell you ain't about to win, shawty
I can tell you ain't about to win, shawty
I can tell you ain't about to win
I can tell you ain't about to win, shawty (uh, yeah, ay)
I can tell you ain't about to win
Donald Breedlove, Marcus Morton, Napoleon Crayton
Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Songtrust Ave