What A Feeling

[Verse 1 : Hit-Boy] This that pimp shit This shit feel like some old late ‘90s type shit The shit I grew up on, but I did the beat Say hello to the young god of the game, popular name HB, all I drop is the flame, nah, nigga we are not in the same boat Car, plane, bus or a stage coach Just a bunch of young niggas from the ghetto Now the way they court us is resemblin Carmelo Ballin, Don Perrion, keep chicks crawling, bossing I ain’t talking dental but nigga, we stay flossing Hands down, so the crowd keep their hands up I live in a high rise, that’s why she keep her ass up I’m the ghetto black trump, spread the word, spread the word Me and my niggas are on now, roger that, Federer, never scurred [Hook x2] What a feeling, ain’t worry about much, just countin these millions What a feeling, gettin top in the Benz, but it ain’t no ceiling What a feeling, ain’t worry about them niggas that’s over there grillin' Cause ya'll don’t really really want much Y'all don’t really really want much [Verse 2 : Price Tag] This for the niggas that can't, never had a rank But be going hard in the paint Bout it bout it like a no limit tank That’s a little dame, tell her to come up over here and plank What a fresh nigga too addictive like mephamphetamine These other rappers I’m better than We’re going somewhere in my leather jeans Coming up mad I never had a dad Ridin' with my momma with no AC in that Cadillac Went from trying get outfits, to youngins to in them house lits Now the money coming like a baseball pitch, fast Nigga, we all rich [Hook x2] [Verse 3 : Kent M$ney] Hundred K on the block Money all the time with a pay on the watch 22s caught an eye, but the funny thing is that I came and I stock Got a raise but I drop, young nigga move around like I’m posed to Fuck love, love tell me what that throw do, let a nigga coach you, then I can't approach you My niggas knock niggas out Tyson Your niggas, my niggas let bygones My niggas make your niggas buy guns From the pump if a nigga speak with dry lungs My taste high, this weed loud, I’m ignant, I’m getting it Ringtones can’t imagine this picnic, nigga keep dreaming I'm feeding that figment [Hook x2] |Verse 4 : Oktane] I ain’t even had to write this, grill on while I rap getting like this You hear them niggas left click then right click Runnin' around, always talking about my clique See, these niggas won’t hold me back Cause these niggas won’t hold these racks Tell them broke boy stop it Cause they ain’t gonna stop my profit, no Hit got M's, I got Gs, you will take L's, cause you are not these Young G's killing everything, Nazis Last letter killed everything not Z That mean A through Y is gonna die, while I count up this bread and ride out with Price On the passenger side while your girl sending Jpegs You niggas can’t defeat me like fake legs [Hook x2]