7PM IN RVA

(intro) Yeah, ah yeah (verse) What's it take to be as famous as the Biggie's , the Pac's, and the Jay-Z's, the Nas's , and the Drizzy's Sideline sittin' hope these record labels pick me, tryina keep it slow but keep these bitches comin' quickly 50-50 shot because this music game is iffy, so they tell you go hard fuck the game with a stiffy Bitch I got bitch believe me call me Ripley , got these white girls they thick as hell from Houston like they Whitney The hollywood scene bout the women and the green, it ain't' nothin what I witness when I'm chillen with my team (uh) But that shit is just an arms reach away, as elegant as roses in a bunched up bouquet Rappers talkin' cake, I'm bout making this soufflé Once they hear that I got skills all they say is touché , who they? Ain't nobody built like my team, I be the leader of this new class , acknowledge I got rhyme scheme Understand that I got similes that make your lines look stupid Drive like an Aventador , I'm ruthless This should hold you down until I drop the tape, I just made this sound for inspiration to pave the way For any other artist on his grind, clap for this motherfuckin' rapper in his prime Hands down, hold the applause til I get famous And don't mention I'm the greatest , until I fuckin' make it Haven't dropped a tape in like two years Haven't dropped a tape cause my vision just got clear Realized the lime light's a gimmick , I could freestyle but I put the real shit into my writtens, so listen Maybe you will catch a glimpse of artistry, keep in mind that being lucky don't mean winning the lottery And take into consideration what you have and also what you lack That's how I molded all these songs and made them fuckin' tracks Go head and clap for this artist with his rappin' ass Blow ya stacks for that stripper with her clappin' ass Go head and pick out what you want and baby throw it in the bag I won't talk about no money til' I own myself that Jag, F-type You lookin like the stressed type, like the type to cry about ya lack of a sex life Lil' pussy, copy me again Talkin' shit out ya mouth like ya face need Depends Talkin' bout how you wrote ya track before me, get ya life straight Call yourself a rapper, taking shots but you a lightweight Hold it down homie , I'm straight Got some other shit to say to me homie , I'll wait That's what I thought, you as stupid as you look I went a little off topic cause I never put a hook (uh) But back to me cause nobody else is worth it I shouldn't waste my breath on a rapper who ain't workin' And I never said I'm perfect I'm the type to keep my voice down even when I know for certain True visionary, surprised I ain't signed yet Talented and all but I guess it ain't my time yet Fuck it ima keep on grinding , until I have my name in bright lights that are blinding Fuck it, Ima keep on grindin til I have my name in brights lights that shine Bring it back