Freshman List

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    I was made for this shit, rookie of the year
    I wouldn’t show up for the freshman list
    Your swag expired, you ain’t fresh like this
    Shit on all my haters, I’ma make them pissed
    I was made for this shit, rookie of the year
    I wouldn’t show up for the freshman list
    Your swag expired, you ain’t fresh like this
    Shit on all my haters, I’ma make them pissed
    Trade my Honda to a Bentley

    Now these fuckboys wanna end me
    Ammunition, I got plenty
    I squeezed it till it’s empty
    My haters, they resent me
    Never checking what they send me
    Don’t touch me, I ain’t friendly
    I’m driving foreigns, I ain’t renting
    Your career is stuck on pending
    The corner what I’m bending
    You’re thinking about lending
    My money I ain’t sending
    You can’t get a penny

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    You wanna see me fail because I’m balling
    You a fake and we ain’t got nothing in common
    You didn’t pick up when you saw me calling
    So you wouldn’t catch me if you saw me falling
    Be careful who you shit on, they might make it, you never know
    Don’t try to come around me if you wasn’t here before
    You say you need some tickets, wanna see me at my show
    I put my bitch in VIP, I put you on the floor
    I was made for this shit, rookie of the year
    I wouldn’t show up for the freshman list
    Your swag expired, you ain’t fresh like this
    Shit on all my haters, I’ma make them pissed
    I was made for this shit, rookie of the year
    I wouldn’t show up for the freshman list
    Your swag expired, you ain’t fresh like this
    Shit on all my haters, I’ma make them pissed
    I’m rolling off a bean and I’m stoned

    I just did a interview with Rolling Stone
    My teachers used to call my momma on the phone
    I failed in all my classes, hated going home
    Got-Got a lot of problems that I handle on my on
    Remember making beats and feeling stuck inside my home
    And now when I come home, I’m fucking every bitch I know
    I just show my chain off to Lil Uzi on the phone
    I feeling in my zone, I took two 30’s to the dome
    I heard they pitch they shit up just so they can match my tone
    I’m balling, you can’t stand it how I keep you on your toes
    No motion picture money rewinds in my video
    When I’m in my city, I feel like I’m Rambo

    My bro like a mechanic, always keep the hammer close
    Do I believe in heaven? To be honest, I don’t know
    But I believe in Ghosts and I believe in Lambo’s
    I was made for this shit, rookie of the year
    I wouldn’t show up for the freshman list
    Your swag expired, you ain’t fresh like this
    Shit on all my haters, I’ma make them pissed
    I was made for this shit, rookie of the year
    I wouldn’t show up for the freshman list
    Your swag expired, you ain’t fresh like this
    Shit on all my haters, I’ma make them pissed

    Información de la canción

    Composición: Rex Kudo, Ryan Vojtesak y Navraj Goraya

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