Draft Day, mine’s like Lebron James
Draft Day, me and you don’t do the same things
Even though we hang with some of the same people, we ain’t never equal
If my life is a movie, there’s no plans for a sequel
I have plans to be regal, you tryna kill my dreams should be illegal
If life’s a movie, I’m Will Smith, you’re Steven Segal
I craft blockbusters, some of my family is block lovers
I make major moves, others continue to make blunders
Used to think that people loved us, used to think they could be trusted
Now my trust is like your bracket, fucking busted.
Still remain cool in public, still remain anti-puppet
Which means someone else is pulling your strings or something
We all want trophies, championship rings or something.
But some people think I’m just selling dreams or something
I used to want to kick it like Fifa, earn stripes like adidas
Having people do what I say like Simon says, follow the leader
Your time is running out, didn’t you check the meter?
Everybody has to retire, you can even ask Derek Jeter
Life’s a marathon, not a sprint, we aren’t running the 100 meters
They say I lost my mind and now they’re playing finders keepers
I’m still on my grind like skateboards, here’s what I pray for
That I get my piece of the pie so I don’t have to forcefully take yours
The dream comes for free, the hustle is sold separately
Trying to cook up success, I hope I have the right recipe
Everything rests on me, people still testing me
I guess they’re envious on how God is blessing me
If I were you I wouldn’t mess with me? I could be considered psycho
My circle is tighter than a fat person’s stomach after lipo
Ain’t no telling where I might go, tell me where the hype goes
And when she say she missed her period, you better hope she talking typos
Or else you paying for tyco, for all the pampers and all the bottles
Money going towards Barbie Dolls instead of taking out models
Never consider me ungrateful, this game is unfaithful.
People watch you build success then they say that they made you
Oh is that the case? Well excuse the hell out of me
But I’m a self-made man with intervention that’s heavenly
Telling my haters rest in peace, I know prosperity is killing ‘em
Used to not want the boy, now some of these ladies is feeling ‘em
There’s a fine line between waiting for opportunities and stealing ‘em
And I’m standing right on it while everyone else is middling
That’s code for mediocre, something doesn’t smell right like you’re cooking okra
I am the manifestation of what Martin Luther hoped for.
With a little Malcolm X, can’t wait to go cash these checks
Am I a little arrogant? I wouldn’t be if y’all just gave me respect
This isn’t a victory lap because celebrating is premature
This just is reflection on how I’m still running up the score
No more Mr. Nice Guy, these people shallow like pop flies
Meanwhile I’m talking slick like olive oil, call in Popeye.