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Built to Win Born to Lose
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A-Reece
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Letra
Yeah Mans shut down when he heard my tings Yeah Touchdown first place Yeah, yeah Told shorty I'm about to bug her off in the worst way Yeah Touchdown first place Yeah, yeah Told shorty I'm about to bug her off in the worst way Yeah I ain't surprised we made the news I wouldn't be surprised if they told me that I'm the reason they eating of Pay-Per-Views Pardon me if I'm rude I wouldn't be surprised if she told me "I only know of his music because of you" He bit the hand that fed him, he used to a silver spoon I used to go to bed without having no dinner food I'm waking up to breakfast at Tashas in the flamingo room Eating shrimp like the flamingos do Yeah, built to win, born to lose With that said, I don't really think I'm good at doing what a n***a is born to do Guess I got a point to prove Married to the music Instead of jumping the broom, I'm jumping into the booth All summer, f**k a honeymoon Fall, winter and autumn too, n***a no autotune n***as want smoke, I don't see 'em through the f**kin' fumes We don't show it when we got it, boy that's a beginner's move, uh Yeah, touchdown first place Yeah, yeah Told shorty I'm about to bug her off in the worst way Yeah, yeah Yeah, Young Biggie Lets go! Young n***a winning Is he rapping or singing? On that wake and bake sh*t Smell like backwoods in my linen I seen plenty women, running wide to catch feelings Only hang with stars around me, you'd think my head spinning For like 24/7, 365 The next leap year I'm around, I cop a coupe with frog eyes Will I ever go to heaven? I'll find out when I die But I believe in the God who died for me by getting crucified uh Did you ever think I'd get this big n***a! Young Biggie, Big Headed, Big Hash, BIG Big problems, I could pull them out the bag Became a rapper, finally got my big break that's Kit Kat Young had the streets poppin' like gang violence I went from high school to high profilers Sports deal bagging, autotune, cool new rapping, new faces old antics Darker days and even brighter diamonds Calm down, pause we ain't on the same level Different tax bracket, Kelsey Grammer new bezel Dropped out to hop in the Merc, the class still in assemble So much class, this sh*t a classic instrumental Rap n***as begging me to spit it two times eight, produced by 8 So they could put it on they mixtapes I handle business on my own, got the coon case Second hand smoke, If a n***a get involved Yeah
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