Waka Flocka Flame
Way to the Top
[Hook]
I grew up on the block, robbers, d-boys, and cops
In and out trend spots, trying to run my block
Stay down on my grind, can't confiscate what I got
Shine every chance I get whether you like it or not
I said the trap is hot, it ain't getting money if it ain't hot
I said the trap is hot, it ain't getting money if it ain't hot
I deserve everything I got, on my way to the top
[Verse 1]
Young n***a grew up, born from Jamaica Queens
No homes, just anger and crack fiends
Thugged out young n***a, no skinny jeans
The code was grind, get this money by any means
No in-betweens, never choose sides
Down for my n***as, you know I ride
This one for the county when the doors slide
I hear your pain dog, I hear your soul cry
No replies from his dog when he down the road
Uncle was twenty-five and he didn't fold
Just to let you know, boy, I got your books every month
Bruh you gon' be straight, that's real shit
[Hook]
[Verse 2]
I said I stayed down strong, put my all in it
My grind showed off man they want to call in it
Acting like they helped wrote a n***a raps and all
Bitch, I showed your little ass how to ball
Never turn my back on a n***a I call a friend
Ride with you even if I know I won't win
Feel like Joe the Boss in this foggy, I've been
Rapping from the heart, I don't even need a pen
Flag out my pocket, shawty that's unity
Hear these n***as talking, boy, Dunk looking over me
Ain't shit you can do to me, trying to feed my family
Fuck all of this jewelry, party in Clayton County
[Hook]
[Verse 3]
Grown man status got a n***a thinking different
Put a plan together, we're going to eat, pay attention
Trying to keep my n***as out of the kitchen, stop bitching
People pay to listen, always paid attention, play my position
Rapping from the heart, never fiction
Daddy was a Muslim, mommy was a Christian
Lost one brother, now I've got three
Laugh, I'mma be a real n***a, can't take my breath
[Hook]