Maxed Out Lyrics

Habits are not always passed down

They stem from a root, like Hash browns

They laughed at my music and thought I was joking

I told em boys im bout to crash out

Got used to the pressure like Pascal

Showed her a check and she passed out

My girl got stats in like every position

I swear to God that bitch is maxed out

Ideas keep flowing, and I cannot stop it

I gotta keep going there's no other option

Turned to my right and they told me to lock in

Went to the studio, GiLeo clocked in

Dropped a whole album and got a reaction

I saw all the progress they just saw the action

Turned to my left and it's crazy what happened

Suddenly no one around me was laughing

Felt like lil Uzi just missing the patek

Hopped in the truck, and turned on the static

Drove around town, in the night I was thinking

How close I had came to becoming a

Not really, I'm playing

A lot on my mind, but don't know how to say it

When I'm outta time, what will I remember?

The days where I lived, or the days I was faded

Will I be loved, or will I be hated?

Will I die young, or stay till I'm 80?

Telling the stories of when I was 16

And I had 50 streams, so I thought that I made it

I was delusional, I cannot lie

Rappin on beats I was too broke to buy

Hoping that I ain't get copyright strike, but lucky for me I ain't got enough streams

But I got many dreams, And I'm currently chasing

I got up on stage, And my thoughts they were racing

All of the bullshit I've delt with I've faced it

The way I knew how, got a mic, I would say shit

That I couldn't ever dare say face to face yet

Put all my thoughts in these underground albums

BandLab dreams, did my own things,

Sat back and watched, suprised at the outcome

My girl got stats in like every position at this point I swear that she maxed

They told me I better relax

I told em I might relapse

At this point I'm lost, and consumed by emotions

Not taking account for the facts

I knew that I had to react

Reflecting on shit in the past

This for the boy, who walked in the room,

And all the bad bitches done popped they balloons

This for the kid, who listened to em,

Thinking why him, as he walked home from school

Back when the truck was, not on the road

And back when he thought that he could be the goat

Not knowing the meaning behind what he said and instead he just talked as he watched it unfold

Habits are not always passed down

They stem from a root, like Hash browns

They laughed at my music and thought I was joking

I told em boys im bout to crash out

Got used to the pressure like Pascal

Showed her a check and she passed out

My girl got stats in like every position

I swear to God that bitch is maxed out