h.a.r.d.

we met each other on a magazine cover

it's like god told us we had to be brothers in this rap music

never fuckin' with beat makers

just the

we makin'

all hail the king

i'm back

this time around i'm coming to get it all

bigger in the hood than fentanyl

yeah

i'm killin' y'all

porsche with the ceilin' off

pink blacker than the skin of senegal

i'm night crawling like jake gyllenhaal

all independent though

but you can't tell by the way i'm spendin' though

out here talkin' slick as the kitchen floor

y'all rock aluminum cans

your jewelry's michelob

mine got 'em green with envy

these niggas piccolo

pick a flow

i smack a rapper with a lyric that'll hit 'em harder than that nigga riddick bowe

then go

go and let critics know

crooked came up on food stamps

he knew he'd be a champ

now the louis v is stamped on my boot clamp

bitches know

they wave when i smash past

try to flag me down like the star-spangle at half-mast

my money was young

i didn't have cash

now i'm like the comedian headlining: i knew i'd get the last laugh

really though

i've been way too humble for way too long

and i think it's time you know what it takes me to sing these songs

sometimes i just wanna take my ball and go home

'cause if i want it bad enough i might have to go alone

really though

yeah

brother

been a ride since that cover

from the hood to seeing the whole world with one another

with two other motherfuckers among us: the four sluggers

to this day we break the internet

we talk to each other

maybe one day we'll reunite at coachella

'til then it's just me and my dawg

ho yella

joell is just a fresh pawn teller from the 'jects with dope sellers

war vests and chrome metal would ejecto whole melons

was a mess in front of the buildin'

i'm mindin' my business

bumpin' that audio two

sippin' my yoo-hoo milk

i was chillin'

buffalo hat top billin'

man

give me credit

i survived in a era where starter would get you ended

it was cool to get love but still move with your snub

'cause that 8-ball'll have you playin' pool full of blood

fast forward

just bought a billiard room in a club

chalk it up to how i still be in these booze with the drugs

the yaowa

like the most potent

sour

diesel flower

crushed with the cocoa leaf

man

that's a high-powered powder

like how the fuck can the sound of me have you both down and up together like the staircase i came outta?

i amounted to more than any coward fingers could count up

i got bullets for haters and a trigger for doubters

two sig sauers become a headache

they'll leave you right over the counter near all the sunflower seeds

sour powers

and now and laters

now the neighbors wave

they see me come down the block

i 'member my shop teacher telling me stop with the beatbox

lunch table hip hop; i'm a flop; he failed me

20 years later

look who's settin' up shop

really though

i've been way too humble for way too long

and i think it's time you know what it takes me to sing these songs

sometimes i just wanna take my ball and go home

'cause if i want it bad enough i might have to go alone

really though