Uncle Sam, Pt. 2 Lyrics

One bow, Two bow

Young nigga ballin' like D-1

Need a letterman

Yeah

One bow, Two bow, Three let's keep measuring

Young nigga balling like D-1 I need a letterman

Ain't been stacking lately I been spending like a won a settlement

Every nigga with me strapped really moving like the president

The loudest in the room be on mute when money involved

Any problem God throw my way I bet it get solved

I been getting money so my rap checks I'm stacking it all

Niggas wanna change routes with any speed bumps they come across

When shit change we don't panic we adjust cause that's life

How you gone hit all of yo goals if you never sacrifice

I then put rap on hold just to get my bag right

Doing videos missing out on money it was tight

I was feeling pressure but I swear I never folded

You'll run off on yo mans for some crumbs boy you bogus

Got the bag wasn't sitting on my ass boy I sold it

I get streams from overseas you can't tell me I ain't goated

You can't say I ain't the coldest

Tell them niggas buy my stock

In a mopar the traction off we finna spin the block

I ain't Kurt Angle but I got the game in a headlock

In the hood I'm a garbage truck I make a lot of stops

She wanted to fuck but at the time I only wanted top

Fuck her good ima stash some bows at her momma spot

Phone ringing I got money calling boy I got this shit on lock

And when I cop that Benz ima park that bitch right on the block

Like a bad kid boy my hands always in something

My goals mean everything cause I started off with nothing

I was working jobs but I always had a skill in hustling

Now I keep a roll on my side like my nose running

In the streets fuck the potholes we trying to dodge indicments

I be thumbing through them bands boy I swear that shit exciting

In the field trying to get a sack like I play for the Vikings

Nowadays they put switches on the glocks they ain't fighting

Everything changed when I copped my first bag

Yo bitch got a big head when she got her first bag

On the gram like she up but in real life doing bad

I'm still cool with the fiends I don't need a rap friend

I get it for the Love still tax Uncle Sam

I got niggas who'll shoot for me like Darvin Ham

I got One bow, Two bow, Three I don't do scams

And they strong like Mark Henry so I'm selling every gram

Everything changed when I copped my first bag

Yo bitch got a big head when she got her first bag

On the gram like she up but in real life doing bad

I'm still cool with the fiends I don't need a rap friend

I get it for the love still tax Uncle Sam

I got niggas who'll shoot for me like Darvin Ham

I got One bow, Two bow, Three I don't do scams

And they strong like Mark Henry so I'm selling every gram