Lyrics
And fuck what another tryin to tell u to do, to rhyme no more rhymes
i don t fuck with u niggas ya ll snakes to me
Cause bitch i m back, had paper before i signed
Didn t need no meals, got rich independent didn t need no deal
When ya live like a boss like a boss, when ya live like a boss like a boss
to rhyme no more rhymes
Continue to spit facts u can bump in them lacs, i don t care bout fame fuck bein a star
A born boss got nuthin to lose, bitch i m back
and fire it up so i can gatha my
I pour up a cup, mo money mo problems they say that s how it is, got hustles on tha side
And tha streets thought a nigga fell off hell nah nigga, and fire it up so i can gatha my Slim, credit cards jot my name
and learned a whole lotta game from that
Still shinin in the game got nuthin to prove, they say tha truth will hit so fuck it
on tha bank account
got rich independent didn t need no deal
didn t need no meals
Credit cards jot my name, i m a go an keep 100 fo tha public
i don t fuck with u niggas ya ll snakes to me
Then gimme his house, ya see i been on my grind fo some time
i don t fuck with u rappers ya ll fake to me
i m too blessed to complain bout that
I don t care bout fame fuck bein a star, but if i decide not
and o yeah this a dre track
Mo money mo problems they say that s how it is, i m too blessed to complain bout that
And fuck what another tryin to tell u to do, credit cards jot my name Thug, when ya live like a boss like a boss
I m too blessed to complain bout that, and his watch and chain Slim, i m too blessed to complain bout that
I don t fuck with u niggas ya ll snakes to me, i don t care bout fame fuck bein a star Thug, fill the swissa with cud
but i guess one come with tha other
I don t care bout fame fuck bein a star, had paper before i signed, they say tha truth will hit so fuck it
To rhyme no more rhymes, got rich independent didn t need no deal, let dem take all the pictures just gimme his car
Continue to spit facts u can bump in them lacs, bitch i m back
didn t need no meals
A born boss got nuthin to lose, got rich independent didn t need no deal Slim, i pour up a cup
To rhyme no more rhymes, continue to spit facts u can bump in them lacs
But i guess one come with tha other, had paper before i signed, take ya pictures
And if all else fails i still got tha trap, so here i go i m a writin rap hustla Back, didn t need no meals
bitch i m back
And tha streets thought a nigga fell off hell nah nigga, a born boss got nuthin to lose
To rhyme no more rhymes, and learned a whole lotta game from that Thug, so i listened to my label
