Logic, Project Pat, Juicy J - 20 Years Later (feat. Project Pat)

Yeah, mane Juice Mane, Project Pat, Logic on the beat Y'all know what it is, dog Yeah, yeah, yeah, North (we in this bitch) North, North (let's get it) Still thumbin' through rolls, still do sold-out shows (yes, sir) Got dope smoke in my clothes, I still don't love no hos (you know it) Still stick to the code, still get exotic bowls (always) Designer got me drippy like a runny nose (hey) Higher than a kizzle, still got dirty sprizzle (dirty sprizzle) Pockets thick like Lizzo, spend more than a little (mm-hmm) Big boy, 41, this bitch a presidential (yes, sir) I gotta be a GOAT, go look at my credentials (let's get it, yeah) 20 years later, how much money you got in the bank? (Uh) Card don't got no limit, I might fuck around, buy me a tank (uh-oh) Dope smoke in my nose, uh, blow that shit out 'cause it stank Not worried 'bout no hos, I brought a foreign bitch back to the States (vroom) 20 years later, cashed out, I bought an estate (hey) Crib so big, you gotta call when you at the gate (yes, sir) Nigga, I'm the GOAT, no back and forth, it ain't no debate (uh-huh) I'm making sure the next 20-some years, we gon' be straight (talkin') Secure that bag, Uncle Elroy, puff, puff, pass Would you like to try some shutter? Gettin' rich off Juicy glass See, you get in your bag, I get in my safe Ain't no way in hell I won't get bored if I can create (uh-huh, uh-huh) You broke as hell, you and your boys, so y'all can't relate (mm-mm) Just by the smell, I know you can tell that that shit's some dank (yep) Yeah, 20 years later, I'm a Academy Award winner Forbes lister, nigga, think of Juice when you think of J Still thumbin' through rolls, still do sold-out shows (yeah) Got dope smoke in my clothes, I still don't love no hoes (North, North) Still stick to the code, still get exotic bowls (bitch) Designer got me drippy like a runny nose (uh-huh) Higher than a kizzle, still got dirty sprizzle (dirty sprizzle) Pockets thick like Lizzo, spend more than a little (yes, sir) Big boy, 41, this bitch a presidential (mm) I gotta be a GOAT, go look at my credentials (patta) International OG status, from Paris, France to Dallas So many hundred passin' through my hand, mane, that's why they call us Some of y'all gettin' jealous, get money, mane, with the fellas Memphis dude swag different, out of town girls call us Never green, not relish, pockets, they on swellish If it ain't 'bout a dollar, we holla, mane, do you smell us? And the hood may love us, blessings from God above us Life sentence in a box, mane, you don't want them troubles Let your next move be your best move, not a stress move Black Forgis on a white foreign, that's a flex move Find that stick on that Ring cam', watch it, nephew They'll identify your face and a place, they gon' arrest you (ew) Still thumbin' through rolls, still do sold-out shows Got dope smoke in my clothes, I still don't love no hos Still stick to the code, still get exotic bowls Designer got me drippy like a runny nose Higher than a kizzle, still got dirty sprizzle Pockets thick like Lizzo, spend more than a little Big boy, 41, this bitch a presidential I gotta be a GOAT, go look at my credentials (yeah) Let me get a little bit of that Made it to the hood, but I'll never get rid of that Money on my mind like a fitted cap Wonder if I'll ever get rid of that chip on my shoulder, I think it's diminished I'll ride 'til I'm finished, I'm ridin' on spinners, not really, but 20 years ago, I been 13, bumpin' "Still Tippin'" Him walkin', I'm still limpin' Bitch made motherfuckers, y'all still simpin' 20 years ago, all my fears, they go up It's really not what's up Back in the day, bumpin' that Triple 6 Daddy on the rock, tryna get the fix All I had was a dream, word to Stevie Nicks Give a fuck what they talkin' about really No way, they know need for them to pay attention Really, they not even worth a mention In another dimension, I'm rappin' no cappin' Like I'm white, like I'm Charlie Chaplin, I'm snappin' Little Bobby runnin' 'round, bullets in the air the sound Never knowin' who's around, never had no one around Bumpin' that Mafia under the ground, just me and my dogs in the pound Back in the day, I'd listen to J, but didn't know what was the outcome 20 years later, jump in the Mercedes, and now I'm producing the album Hold up, I remember being broke in the projects Cooking crack 'til they broke up the Pyrex