Arenas Lyrics

Yeah, yeah

Yeah, yeah, yeah

Yeah! Yeah!

"You already know what it is mane it's-"

Drop it! (Drop it)

From my lenses, from my optics

Stack a band, track the profits

From my hands, I'm a prophet

You in my land, we gone drop it

Aye, if it's in my hands, I'm gone lob it

Aye, hundred bands flowing from the faucet

Uh

Knowing you gone come across it

Got nothing left to write, had to leave' em with no options

You all for show, go ahead and close the curtains

You at a low, all that flexing got you hurting

Told us you gone blow up, but you sound a little too certain

Don't get too close to me with all that bullshit I'm allergic

She from the streets, but we know she universal

Closet full of pink, got her sipping on that purple

Told her slide that drink, now I'm all up in her journal

Rappers reaching peaks, 'cause they never go commercial

I told' em see ya, never ever wanna be ya

Met this lil' jawn at the function, should've seen her

Walked into the party and they turned up all the speakers

Coming with new flows, shit gone fill up y'all arenas

Aye, man

Hungry for the money, this gone feed ya

Stand on my two feet, give a fuck about a feature

Been a bad lil' angel, but she play games like Alita

Your Insta been inspired by a phony, not a leader

Playing all the angles, I ain't going out like Caesar

Step up in my sanctum, time to listen to the preacher

Diamonds got that frost, now my heart up in the freezer

Snap a picture for the poster, I'ma streak ya

Aye

What

Man

I told' em drop it! (Drop it! Drop it!)

Stack a band, track the profits (Profits! Profits!)

From my hands, I'm a prophet (Yeah!)

You in my land, we gone drop it

Taking over parks, got me feeling like I'm Friga

Villain in the dark, got me feeling like I'm Frieza

They won't ask about me 'cause you know I'll CP3 ya

Road from rags to riches, all my bitches got two seaters

Yeah

Man, this the type of shit that busts your speakers

Said it's getting louder, we gone go a little deeper

I'ma flick my wrist, took my time to fill the meter

Walking living heater, all my verses catching fevers

Pen and papers, this gone draw up some attention

Shoutout to the hustlers, they don't need a mention

Winners in this circle, taking over all dimensions

Ain't no debate, I don't even feel the tension

We gone take it back until them Vinyls get to spinnin'

Record-breaking records, all my music really hittin'

It goes round n' round, 'til Flo Rida get to spittin'

So welcome to my house, best believe we gone defend it