Recollections of Fame! - Autumn!

Woah, woah, woah (Woah, woah, woah)

This not a regular Jeep (No)

You think I'm a regular star? (No)

This one a SRT (Yeah)

Man, somebody done died in this car (Yeah)

Police, they lookin' for me?

I'm in Houston, I ain't going too far

Tryna catch me, bitch, it's beat

Put Balenciaga on my feet

Rock Balenciaga just to sleep

TLC on this block, I'ma creep

Let's see if that bitch really sleep

Put a drum and a switch on the G

Put a sixty-three behind the Jeep

And she know how I'm moving, be deep

So you know all my brothers with me

In a E-31, it's a sleeper (Yeah)

She keep askin' if this a Ferrari

Could've lied, but I said it's a Bimmer

Got your bitch in the back, she a eater

Hand it to her, she got a good thinker

Used to think I was gon' go to Harvard (Woah)

Used to think I was gon' have a daughter (Woah)

Used to think everybody keep secrets (Woah)

Used to always be nice, now I'm meaner (No)

I can't fuck with these niggas, I mean it

Way they treat you, you wouldn't believe it

I still listen, the reason I'm smarter

Love my pops, used to give me the game

He the reason I know to go harder

Got a brother I miss every day

He the reason I rhyme when I'm talkin'

I'ma settle, you speak on his name

I can't wait 'til my son meet your daughter

I just sit back and write when I think (Yeah)

Wanna be just like Durango Carter (Yeah)

If you listen, you picture the pain

If you listen, you'll hear when it rain

Time to go sand white for the paint

Got a Jeep, but our shit ain't the same

He got money, but he still a lame

I just spent his whole check on some Lang

He got everything, he still complain

He seen death, he still think it's a game

He throw up shit he don't even claim

She love me, but she don't know my name

Feel like I got accustomed to fame

"Why you spend seventeen on a chain?"

Another twenty you spent on the Carti'

Could've put that shit down on a 'Rari

In your twenties, why you need a 'Rari?

If I die in it, I hope somebody

Call Trina and tell her I'm sorry

She know her baby boy got that money

And I can't help but spend it on cars

Still got niggas locked behind them bars

(Still got niggas locked behind them bars)

Still got niggas locked behind them bars

Free my niggas locked behind them bars

(Woah, woah, woah)

This not a regular Jeep (No)

You think I'm a regular star? (No)

This one a SRT (Yeah)

Man, somebody done died in this car (Yeah)

Police, they lookin' for me?

I'm in Houston, I ain't going too far

Tryna catch me, bitch, it's beat

Put Balenciaga on my feet

Rock Balenciaga just to sleep

TLC on this block, I'ma creep

Let's see if that bitch really sleep

Put a drum and a switch on the G

Put a sixty-three behind the Jeep

And she know how I'm moving, be deep

So you know all my brothers with me