Breaking down a Belgian waffle with the fork on a Masi
Seats butter, sliding through the city slower than syrup
Said she never drove a foreign, told her give it a whirl
The Miami wind whipping, tryna straighten her curls
She roll the window up
Dutch Pot, bouta pick some dinner up
Oxtail drowning in the gravy like the hands in the bustdown
Lotta people tryna rekindle because I'm up now
But if they were solid they woulda stuck 'round
Navigating the real and the fake kinda exhausting
My DMs full of sheep and wolves in wool sweaters
Used to send links to my music like chain letter
Crazy I don't gotta do that no more
My chain wetter than Rick Barry from charity stripe
My spam filter overloaded tryna handle underhanded advice
This rap money make it hard for me to manage my vice
Food and fashion, for the listeners asking
Got the Uber Eats Pass because them niggas was taxing
Safe to say my music gaining some traction
Tell my mom about my progress just to hear her reaction
She don't care that I'm stacking
She know I'm following my dreams and she just love that I'm happy
February I was looking into PhD programs at Yale
Almost left the game, rapping wasn't paying my bills
Now it is, so my GRE prep got derailed
Maybe I'll come back to it at the end of my trail