We Blessed

[Intro]
Uh
Jansport Check
Yeah

[Verse 1: Dom Kennedy]
Hop out the shadows and straight lead the race
Looking at the formation and I could read the play
On the guitar riff you in my paw prints
Big dog, don’t cross the middle again
Ringling Brothers should hire you suckas
A whole fish and minced garlic, you chicken McNuggets
Stop with all the surface rapping
Where would you be without fashion?
I see you taking shots at the captain
Cause I don’t ass kiss you be low average
When it comes this sport you ain’t my fabric
Patent leather rap bars that game don’t travel
Me? I’m coming straight from the gravel
Y3’s on, everyday [?]
Pro Tools love when I load something up
Underpaid really I did it for the love
No nomination or bottles mailed from Puff
And back to [?] yelling “pour me up”
I wonder what they got in the sake that make these rap niggas think they could stop me
That make these broke hoes think they could tax me
Fat in the ass cheeks, you need you a athlete
Me, I’m thug that skipped class
Supreme bag, Ipad, a little cash
I do this for Phil when I feel bad
That was my nigga for real
Uh, you think I give a fuck about a fashion nova?
I kick her out as soon as I’m done fucking on her
I’m sick like bronchitis and stuffy noses
Buy her a dozen roses pull off with the chauffeur
AK gon laugh when he hear this smash
He know my shit real and I hate to brag
They think I’m solo but I got the wham
I put that on Crenshaw and Vernon Ave, we blessed

[Verse 2: Hit-Boy]
This shit working out better than we planned it out
In France only french I know is don't panic
Coming heavy handed open palm like Nip at the staples
Walk into [?] and spot and drop 10 on the table
Big whip the leather soft like a kiss from an angel
Man this niggas disabled all deception and fables
[?] knew shit since I crept through
In ‘92 on real had a nine like [?]
You was in your hometown and let them niggas press you
Teaching niggas how to move, I might invest in a school
And you know I snap like a model next to a pool
She let me get her in trouble
It was cold in ATL, I went and copped the gucci bubble
Player coach with my niggas plottin’ in a huddle
It’s a victory, a landslide
Lit like a flashlight
Keeping the fam right, yall playing from the backfire

[Outro]
For the love
For the love, for the love
For the love
Just for the love
Hit Boy
For the love
Dom Kennedy
For the love
Just for the love
Dollar sign
Courtesy of Half-A-Mil
Yeah
Stacking money to the ceiling
You a lame so you wouldn’t know the feeling
Stacking money to the ceiling
You lame so you wouldn’t know the feeling
For the love
Mixed by [?]