MTR

[Intro: Hit-Boy]
I don′t make the rules
I don't

[Chorus: Hit-Boy]
I don′t make the rules, I just know the rules
Play it how it go, I play it way too smooth
Controlling my own wave, you just trolling
Take the pic right now but wait to post it

[Verse 1: Hit-Boy]
Can't be giving up the spots
Too many real ones getting popped
Cleaned up with the mop
I'm dropping tears while I skate off in the drop
Nu.WAV, yeah
You′re not gon′ like this, I'mma say it anyway
Shit is real, way too real, we could be gone any day
It′s a movie outside, they catch you lacking in 6K
I ain't hanging with nobody who ain′t got nothing to lose, I'm straight, uh
I don′t make the rules, I just know the rules
Still got some friends, just took a head count of 500 blues
Give a fuck if you don't understand how I move
Caught a groove, now it's no apologies
Yeah I won′t, subscribe to the victim mentality
I don′t, get back like I used to, barely answering my phone
OG Jordans on me, Hit-Boy OG in my joint
Used to rock with niggas, hate they pushed me to this point

[Chorus: Hit-Boy]
I don't make the rules, I just know the rules
Play it how it go, I play it way too smooth
Controlling my own wave, you just trolling
Take the pic right now but wait to post it

[Verse 2: James Fauntleroy]
Why would you play with a nigga like me? I′m serious
Niggas might be delirious
Niggas' bitches like me, they curious
See a nigga like me mysterious
Making niggas like you furious, really don't matter where he is
Niggas gon be like "Here he is", bitches gon be like "There he is"
But it′s where it could go
Niggas act like don't know but the whole hood know
Niggas say they gon see me but then never show
What these niggas gon do, I guess we'll never know

[Verse 3: Hit-Boy]
I did the beat on my own
I′m looking at credits, you niggas is wrong
Tricking the public
I′m doing magic, you gotta come see the show
Listen to me, Hit-Boy on the drums, Hit-Boy on the keys
It is what it is, shit really ain't what it seem
Keeping it fresh, I don′t see y'all as no threats
I ain′t breaking no sweat, bitch I did a lot for the West (West Coast)
I don't make the rules
Fooling on this track but nigga I cannot be fooled
10K on my fit, five thousand on my shoes
I overpaid my taxes and I overpaid my dues
I′m good on niggas for good, I ain't expecting no truce
And if you feel that in your chest then this shit directed at you