Lowest of Lows ft. Christyle & Sauce Walka Lyrics

Okay, okay, yeah, look

Okay, I had to make it out of the lowest of lows

I had to take a certain route cause the choices I chose

I had to give myself credit when nobody did

But how much credit can you give when you're hot as this

Okay, I had to make it out of the lowest of lows

I had to take a certain route cause the choices I chose

I had to give myself credit when nobody did

But how much credit can you give when you're hot as this

I see niggas droppin' the ball like it's New Year's Day

I know I came here for funds but I ain't come here to play

How could I ever when they said I would never

Niggas ain't hatin' enough, dawg, y'all gotta do better

That shit is fuel to the fire, doin' what I desire

I had to go save myself, who do you choose for your messiah

I watched you phase in and phase out

Most you niggas played out, created my own lane

I made out, reinvented the wheel

And kept it movin', forever chasin' this green

And givin' niggas the blueprint

Architectural digest, my progress

I took more time with this music so now it's timeless

And that can never be overstated, can never be overrated

Pedal to the floor, I OJ it

That type of drive gon' always get you somewhere

Put all that bullshit aside and life can change in one year

Okay, I had to make it out of the lowest of lows

I had to take a certain route cause the choices I chose

I had to give myself credit when nobody did

But how much credit can you get when you hot as this

Okay, I had to make it out of the lowest of lows

I had to take a certain route cause the choices I chose

I had to give myself credit when nobody did

But how much credit can you get when you hot as this

Stop, don't fuck around, I'm hot as a stove

If I let niggas tell it, baby, it never gets told

Shit, I dedicated my ceiling on top of these floors

You still tryna figure out if the house is a home

Baby, I set it in stone, the floor plans to demand

Forty acres to shit with no toilet paper

Committed as nosy neighbors insisting on how I cater

My wrist is the better baker, it's all in the fucking flavor

They all get the fucking vapors

When the dreams don't equate to status

These hoes gon' wanna judge more than Mathis

They left me out to dry, the love I thought I needed ain't arrived

Shit, I'm guessing it's just me, myself, and I

So be it, that's three reasons that I vibrated my hiatus

On low evenings, you know the summer never falls

If you know seasons, niggas didn't expect

Fuck with Mike Larry like Marcus Burnett

Okay, I had to make it out the lowest of lows

I had to take a certain route, cause the choices I chose

I had to give myself credit when nobody did

But how much credit can you get when you hot as this

Okay, I had to make it out the lowest of lows

I had to take a certain route, cause the choices I chose

I had to give myself credit when nobody did

But how much credit can you get when you hot as this

Made it through the dangers

Never took no handouts but had to work with strangers

Really had to smile around demons full of anger

No washing machine, clothes drying on the hanger

Shirts getting washed in the sink by the banger

Fuck being famous

Famer had a DA and a judge on the raiments

Cookies in the jar looking good, think you Amos

Judge, put your neck up in the noose and try to hang it

Yeah, I really made these diamonds out of dust

Created meals out of crust

Attacked by all the higher ups and still ain't got touched

We driving Rolls Royce trucks but started on the bus

Mama Died had to suck it up and get straight to the bucks

Nobody give a fuck, that ain't they mama

You ain't the only one in pain, we all having trauma

I'm from a place so desperate, they'll rob at a McDonald's

A city full of thieves, but it really ain't no honor