øffthewall/ønthegrøund (prod. Sid White)

(Chorus x2) Fresh out the south, I’m burning loud, I’m off the wall, And on the ground, How are you now? Without a doubt, The best out, Come and show me, What you motherfuckers, Really about. O-town, born and raised, Didn’t know a boy like me, Could make plays. Didn’t know a voice like me, Could make waves. I could be a worldwide rapper, Each day. But I’m still stuck in my room, With a bullshit ass job, But somehow I be making some paper. Wanting to cop an Audi R8, Straight red and black, And then name it Darth Vader. Swerves the hoes, Get all your shit in a line. They just be wasting your time, Cop you a dime, That wanna see you make it big, And sees all the pain in your eyes. I wanted this shit from the start, And now see fakes in the rap game. I could pull em all out, Like they were roaches in an ashtray, From all that petty shit, I will abstain. Wanting some honesty? I should explain. I am the prophecy, Call out my name. Wanting the cars, And the bottles That come with the fame, When you running the game. Switching my flows like my lanes, That’s because these, Motherfuckers can’t drive. They on the side, Just like a plate of them fries. That’s why salty inside.