Floor 13

Album: Hotel Diablo (2019)
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  • Fuck

    I just spent too many minutes
    Watching little videos of shitty wannabe rappers dissing me
    I just spent the winter living
    After someone tryna send a kill shot, missing me
    Young blonde don and the double-X mob got a gang out in Sicily
    Why you think they call me "The Gunner"?
    I'm popping off on anybody if they trigger me

    Black and yellow jacket on like I'm Kill Bill
    Grew up scrapping and I still will
    We can take it back to 2012
    I was trapping on the tour bus with Meek Mill
    Take it back to Cleveland,
    When they gave chase, 17 years, no plea deal
    2014, when the people try to rob me in the lobby
    I bet they can feel the feet still
    Point out my enemies soon as they mention me
    Call an assembly, pick up a pen and put you out your misery
    Written in history, it was gonna happen eventually
    I just can't wait until the day I run into you physically
    For everything that I went through mentally
    When it felt like everybody in the world was against me
    When all the critics and every article trying to offend me
    My daughter slapped a kid for talking 'bout me in elementary

    We ain't playing, it's deeper than the thing
    People getting checked for disrespecting the Philly name
    Two chopsticks, no lo mein
    Hollow tips, got no name
    Bust them shit's with no aim
    Like it's Bird Box but the blindfold is a black flag
    This time it come from a face
    The dashcam just saw me kill on everybody

    I got off on floor 13, no in between
    I roll my weed with fronto leaf
    I chop my coke on hotel keys
    I chop this face like Constantine
    Constantly get deja vu
    I see me when I look at you
    I never die, I multiply
    So don't cry at my funeral

    I just spent too many minutes
    Watching little videos of shitty wannabe rappers dissing me
    I just spent the winter living
    After someone tryna send a kill shot, missing me
    Young blonde don and the double-X mob got a gang out in Sicily
    Why you think they call me "The Gunner"?
    I'm popping off on anybody if they trigger me

    What would this generation of hip-hop be
    Without me here to piss y'all off
    I see the blogs, I read the comments
    I'm confused, I need to pause
    Look at y'all waiting on me to fall off
    While I'm looking at y'all from a suite in the Waldorf
    I sold 40 million records, I ain't even 30
    Give me twenty seconds, I'll list ten movies that I been in
    One legend that tried to fuck with me and got the venom
    One publication that said that I will never be in it
    One agent that told me without it, my career was be finished
    And I couldn't give a single fuck inside my cerebellum
    Y'all award shows suck, go tell 'em
    We ain't sucking no dick in the 21-6
    Bro, I always should've landed like Beckham
    On the thirteenth floor with a weapon

    I heard that they call me, yeah, let 'em in
    I got something for 'em, yeah
    Please forgive my sins
    Blood on my Ralph Lauren, yeah
    I can't wash this shit
    Wake up, say, "Good morning," yeah
    Like I forgot

    I got off on floor 13, no in between
    I roll my weed with fronto leaf
    I chop my coke on hotel keys
    I chop this face like Constantine
    Constantly get deja vu
    I see me when I look at you
    I never die, I multiply
    So don't cry at my funeral

    Hotel Diablo Writer/s: Brandon Allen, Christopher Malloy, Colson Baker, Earl Johnson, Steve Basil
    Publisher: BMG Rights Management, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
    Lyrics licensed and provided by LyricFind

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