Just.Over.Broke Lyrics

And the answer still no

I just punched the clock again

I'm wasting time, all this clocking In

I feel by now I should be clocking M's. It's like the gatekeepers, hear Me knocking

But conspire to just block my wins

And fortify the ways I'm coming In, through all the tribulations

I'm focused on my greatness

I wish we would let these 9 to 5 Steady players

They up the production, but we Still make the same paper

We get paid to forget about our Dreams

I ain't with it, can't stop till every Check eight digits

Ninety-seven baby, push the ninety-seven Plymouth

They fucked up when they started Saying everybody winners

When niggas out here losing, Bitches out here choosing

They hit me for the heat, but when I drop them niggas snoozing

I just want the gang neck, studded Out like Rubin

If you ain't chasing wealth, then Tell me what the fuck you doing

Wake up every day, trying to Figure out the best ways

That I can get the whole fucking Set paid

Constant brainstorming, always Bleeds into the next page

I've been feeling stuck, like Nothing is enough

When I'm coping with this pain, All I know is run it up

But working overtime at a job, Take away from this

You gon' build your brand, or keep Making them niggas rich

I say you gon' build your brand, or Keep making them niggas rich

I will leave right now if the family Ain't need it

Clock in everyday, man, I swear I Feel defeated

I swear I feel defeated

But This ain't forever, only right Now

So I'ma hold it down for the family

For the family

For the family

I had a convo with a nigga, more Than twice my age

Say he remember getting Minimum wage

Told me where I am now is where I should stay

Try to explain all the money to Make

He said, if you work Sunday to Sunday

Maybe you make some money to Push a Benz or Beamer

And level up from that Hyundai

Had to tell him the goal was never A nice whip

I just want control over my life

And that's it

Tired of asking niggas, can I have A day off

That nine to five working hard never Pays off

My dawg say, fuck it

Then he became his own boss

Went from helping niggas cook to Making his own sauce

And I'm right behind him

Fuck a -year trap, work for forty

And you'll never get them forty years Back

Trying to make it as an artist, Could do it one of the hardest

I'm the type of nigga destined to Win in life

Regardless, I was taught that I Always

Had to finish what I started, so I'm Back

I know y'all need motivation to Rap

Clocked out, and I got straight to The track

If you gon' do it, you better do it to The max

Nigga

Better do it to the max

If you gon' do it, better do it to the Max

I'm a boss

I ain't never had a trap, nigga