Carry On (feat. Joey Bada$$ & Freddie Gibbs)

Besides the fact a **** never been as swank as me, I like that

Until I shine I sit patiently, so light that

I'm folding back, scroll a pack and roll a fatty, smokes heavy

Not even over, mad I'm thinking what they probably

Shoulda did before I'm on my girls and soaring

Foreign under them heels

It ain't about the Ralph though, tell your horse chill

Don't need to grill to feel like a real ****

If he can't see the light then shine Hilfiger's still

Six-figure deals, what the Hell?

Since the age of six I knew the name would ring a bell

In six more years to wonder what the time could tell

That's 666 still no signs of a three-sixty deal

Neither did I sell myself, records spinning by they self

The DJ tell myself go reflects off the reflex,

Before I told Flex, drop that Syntax on the next New York best

Then singing sound, stick around, and we coming for the vets now

Can a **** contest? Maybe if he put his pride aside

He could confess, but none the less

It's fundamental, weed to fund the mental, wise with the momentum

So rise on this momental, so pawn your in-credentials

Watch who you pretend to, and put a potent diamond to fuel

Respect my conglomerate then wait I'm rocking to

It's such a prominent tune, but I won't get my roses

Until I lie in my tomb, flowers

Others such as myself are trying to carry, carry on tradition

Carry on tradition

You're static and I'm a selektah

(This is live and direct)

(Carry on tradition)

**** that Hennessy, **** that Hennessy, **** that Hennessy

With my lyrical Billy Dee .45 colt

Fuck the polices, they raided but they can't find dope

If it ain't about money and bitches, **** what you rhyme for?

Work half a day in my trap, and make what you sign for

My **** is willing to whip that work

'Cause it's such a ridiculous feeling to come in your crib

And your shit don't work, electric, gas, and water

You Fugazi getting mutilated like Pookie at the Carter

Joseph Jackson of gangsta rapping, **** respect the father

Taking it back to making them pick a switch off the tree

Every time you rap or do a show, bitch I should pinch off a fee

You used to flow 'bout goofy shit, met a G

And got on some goofy shit

A slave to my rap page, student under my tutelage

I'm still taking these boys to school

As quick as I build them up, I can just disassemble them

Coke and cut the curriculum, cousin stayed up in Flint

I was shipping this shits to Michigan

The black bastard fuck LensCrafters, I see the bitch in them

Cop a squat drop a pile on them

I'm steadily shitting on these ****, but they hate the way

Freddie came up and switched up the style on 'em

I stretched it out to 250 he got a nine coming

Don't sell it at night but I'm up as early as five something

Chopping boulders, and blowing dosha so fuck a cup of Folgers

Bended corners, and serving Yoda straight off this Motorola

Sometimes you sacrifice your heart to serve this hard weight

Thirty rounds of death on my waist, its baby scarface, ****

I said thirty rounds of death on my waist, its baby scarface, ****

I got thirty rounds of death on my waist, its baby scarface, ****

(Carry on tradition, carry on tradition)

Raw statik and I'ma selekt

You know what I'm saying these **** is rapping

Around circles and shit

But you know what I'm saying? They ain't talking no real shit

It really don't really fucking matter, you dig what I'm saying, ****?

You dig?