Yeah
Yeah, yeah
Man, I guess it all worked out
I’m gettin’ to it like clockwork now
My haters clocked in, they all burned out
They talk shit but it’s my turn now
And it should’ve been my first route
Young Tiller, what the fuck was you worried about?
Who was talkin’ all that shit? I’ma bury ’em now
I’ma tell it like it is, I’m airin’ ’em out
But when I think about it, I should be blurrin’ ’em out
You can’t be in this picture, no certain, no how
Man, these niggas, they don’t even deserve the clout
I got real niggas all in my circle now
I’m in The Hills with a shawty, she workin’ out
Right by the pool and I got business mergers now
I love the view and I ain’t trippin’ off birdies now
I kinda knew this shit was comin’ I’m learnin’ how
how to manifest, I can’t stress it enough, to y’all
You don’t believe in yourself, you won’t get nothin’ at all
and when you pleadin’ for help, you won’t gettin’ nothin’ at all
’cause niggas greedy and this is not one for all
This industry full of lames and a bunch of fraud niggas
So don’t ask me why I don’t fuck with y’all niggas
But I got Swan with me, and Richie and PARTY
And then Chase Roll, Angela, Mike in Atlanta
But I know if I call him, he gon’ answer then
We all family, T R A P S O U L, we at the GRAMMYs, yeah
Rap flows, but I’m cool like Sammi, yeah
I think it’s clear why they don’t understand me
I took the L’s that these niggas wanted to hand me
And humbly, I fell back, makin’ a plan for me
To comeback healthy, I don’t know what held me back for so long
But look now
Man, I guess it all worked out
I’m gettin’ to it like clockwork now
My haters clocked in, they all burned out
They talk shit but it’s my turn now
And it should’ve been my first route
Young Tiller, what the fuck was you worried about?
Who was talkin’ all that shit? I’ma bury ’em now
I’ma tell it like it is, I’m airin’ ’em out
Matter of fact, I put this shit in the furnace now
So don’t be comin’ to me with all that word to mouth
I got the flame and they sayin’ it’s burnin’ out
But if I light the shit again, I’m burnin’ it down
I’ma write a hit again, I’m writin’ it now
I really couldn’t give a fuck ’bout who likin’ me now
I’m the guy that these critics is writin’ about
But what I’m writin worth a milli’, how could you feel me?
Can’t nigga, I don’t care how you rank a nigga
I blessed you, you really should be thankin’ a nigga
I made your favorite rapper bring his A-game with him
And his A-game still can’t hang with ’em
Fuck a hater and whoever came with him
And this here’s to whoever lost faith in him
Can’t tell me that, Tiller ain’t great, nigga
I got the fire on the way, better wait, nigga
Goddamn, I guess it all worked out
I’m gettin’ to it like clockwork now
My haters clocked in, they all burned out
They talk shit but it’s my turn now
And it should’ve been my first route
Young Tiller, what the fuck was you worried about?
Who was talkin’ all that shit? I’ma bury ’em now
I’ma tell it like it is, I’m airin’ ’em out (I’m airin’ ’em out)
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