Verse: IDK] I just realized that I'm a rich nigga My mama and papa never made six figures By 2019, I'll be at seven figures This my moment of clarity, let me tell it jigga I gave up liquor, I gave up smoking Knowing that the green from being sober is way more potent Now people poking noses in my business Pinocchio and they lying, trying hard to figure out Which ho I'm strokin' to use they lotion I don't fuck no bitches, I got a wife now Young nigga, grown rich nigga lifestyle I could line every rapper up right now And fade 'em with the bars to make every one of 'em lie down Sleep, Poké Flute couldn't wake 'em up Poke a stick at they body Now po-po about to bring the cuffs Oh no, I'm 'bout to do a bid Oh shit, they 'bout to free the kid Killin' bad rappers is legal across the nation, bitch Die, die, die, die, die and I say it with passion Half these people talkin' shit don't say shit When you leave the Internet And you happen to see 'em in passin' It's just harder to see them outside of the actin' It's more harder to see them outside of the laughin' When they only with they friends and sayin' that your album trash When right before they looked you in your face And told you you were snappin' They the ones that stab your back in when they catch you lackin' They the ones that shouldn't have been in the womb instead of napkin Capitalizin' off of these niggas lackin', what the fuck happened? Niggas turned to kingpins, Twitter fingers they get to tappin' Must've pushed the key under the tab, all your words is cappin' Bitch, I am the captain, bitch, I am the chief Bitch, I am the priest when I wake, bitch, you are deceased Bitch, you are control, alt, delete, bitch, be gone for me Bitch, you need to think before you speak Bitch, you Candace Owens Bitch, you panic knowing I don't need no XL stamp to excel I just got 20 bands and transportation in a XL To make them throw they hands and scream my lyrics Meanwhile, people talkin' Got me askin' "Where you at?" without a Nextel No, for real, where you at? The internet still? No, for real, where you at? Your mama crib still? No for real, where you at? My comment section usin' cracked iPhone 5Ss to hate my blessin's Wildin', click your page All I see is, "This profile page is private" With a profile picture of Michael Jordan's face cryin' Probably 'cause I'm ballin' like I'm Lebron and you retired While a nigga still chasin' them rings like Blac Chyna No major labels, keepin' up with niggas on major labels When I sign, the label's keepin' up with me, you won't be able Eatin' at my table, you ain't cool enough and that's the lingo Now I put the classmates that used to laugh up on my payroll Ho, I think I'm better than Cole, better than Dot Fuck a tweet, bitch I'm just as good as Biggie and Pac R.I.P., this my Kodak, Lil Xan, and Yachty talk Akademiks cover him, Adam 22 with the shots Y'all ain't got No Jumpers, double entendre, double entendre You ain't catch it? Well, that's yo problem Now listen, this ain't no dissin', this ain't no hate But keep it real, this is the Freshmen I didn't make? In other words, all of you rappers is just steak When you fallin' off the bone of them charts, I'm eatin' your plate You can't put me in a class when I'm busy teachin' 'em lessons So next year, don't even hit me to be a Freshmen I'm gon' fuck it up, too many bodies, too many stretchers Better buckle up, too much gas and I'm in a Tesla Testa Rossa in my future, they sleepin' I got the rooster, they seated I got the booster, I'm seein' over these losers Please book me, Lollapalooza, I'm blowin', it's like a tuba I'd blow his head with a Ruger if he hot and can't cool up I'm blowin' like I'm a cougar's jaws, who's involved? Whose acoustics make his sonics look like he's infused with Nas Mixed with Gucci, cross him without a cross light And you gon' see the crossroads twice, rest in Peace Phife You gon' see life, pass before you better be nice 'Cause I will body everybody If I see sight of a nigga that don't even blink right Shoutout YBN Cordae, IDK is my name Hi, this Trippie verse, bye
I just realized that I'm a rich nigga My mama and papa never made six figures By 2019, I'll be at seven figures This my moment of clarity, let me tell it jigga I gave up liquor, I gave up smoking Knowing that the green from being sober is way more potent Now people poking noses in my business Pinocchio and they lying, trying hard to figure out Which ho I'm strokin' to use they lotion I don't fuck no bitches, I got a wife now Young nigga, grown rich nigga lifestyle I could line every rapper up right now And fade 'em with the bars to make every one of 'em lie down Sleep, Poké Flute couldn't wake 'em up Poke a stick at they body Now po-po about to bring the cuffs Oh no, I'm 'bout to do a bid Oh shit, they 'bout to free the kid Killin' bad rappers is legal across the nation, bitch Die, die, die, die, die and I say it with passion Half these people talkin' shit don't say shit When you leave the Internet And you happen to see 'em in passin' It's just harder to see them outside of the actin' It's more harder to see them outside of the laughin' When they only with they friends and sayin' that your album trash When right before they looked you in your face And told you you were snappin' They the ones that stab your back in when they catch you lackin' They the ones that shouldn't have been in the womb instead of napkin Capitalizin' off of these niggas lackin', what the fuck happened? Niggas turned to kingpins, Twitter fingers they get to tappin' Must've pushed the key under the tab, all your words is cappin' Bitch, I am the captain, bitch, I am the chief Bitch, I am the priest when I wake, bitch, you are deceased Bitch, you are control, alt, delete, bitch, be gone for me Bitch, you need to think before you speak Bitch, you Candace Owens Bitch, you panic knowing I don't need no XL stamp to excel I just got 20 bands and transportation in a XL To make them throw they hands and scream my lyrics Meanwhile, people talkin' Got me askin' "Where you at?" without a Nextel No, for real, where you at? The internet still? No, for real, where you at? Your mama crib still? No for real, where you at? My comment section usin' cracked iPhone 5Ss to hate my blessin's Wildin', click your page All I see is, "This profile page is private" With a profile picture of Michael Jordan's face cryin' Probably 'cause I'm ballin' like I'm Lebron and you retired While a nigga still chasin' them rings like Blac Chyna No major labels, keepin' up with niggas on major labels When I sign, the label's keepin' up with me, you won't be able Eatin' at my table, you ain't cool enough and that's the lingo Now I put the classmates that used to laugh up on my payroll Ho, I think I'm better than Cole, better than Dot Fuck a tweet, bitch I'm just as good as Biggie and Pac R.I.P., this my Kodak, Lil Xan, and Yachty talk Akademiks cover him, Adam 22 with the shots Y'all ain't got No Jumpers, double entendre, double entendre You ain't catch it? Well, that's yo problem Now listen, this ain't no dissin', this ain't no hate But keep it real, this is the Freshmen I didn't make? In other words, all of you rappers is just steak When you fallin' off the bone of them charts, I'm eatin' your plate You can't put me in a class when I'm busy teachin' 'em lessons So next year, don't even hit me to be a Freshmen I'm gon' fuck it up, too many bodies, too many stretchers Better buckle up, too much gas and I'm in a Tesla Testa Rossa in my future, they sleepin' I got the rooster, they seated I got the booster, I'm seein' over these losers Please book me, Lollapalooza, I'm blowin', it's like a tuba I'd blow his head with a Ruger if he hot and can't cool up I'm blowin' like I'm a cougar's jaws, who's involved? Whose acoustics make his sonics look like he's infused with Nas Mixed with Gucci, cross him without a cross light And you gon' see the crossroads twice, rest in Peace Phife You gon' see life, pass before you better be nice 'Cause I will body everybody If I see sight of a nigga that don't even blink right Shoutout YBN Cordae, IDK is my name Hi, this Trippie verse, bye
When you realize everyone is searching bootleg instrumentals so you just drop it yourself
Young Pharoah lol the last remake I heard was trash but I appreciate the effort tho
These bars!!
Idk my bro rocking since when you were Jay IDK
nalim lattarai he hit us w those j-a-y i-d-k chants at the Isaiah rashad concert
Me too bro
been waiting for this to drop for a hot minute
IDK🐐
Been waiting so long for this THANKYOU!! 🔥🔥🔥
Amazing
Bring your tour to DALLAS
🙏🙏
This legend 124 k subs wwttff
Verse: IDK]
I just realized that I'm a rich nigga
My mama and papa never made six figures
By 2019, I'll be at seven figures
This my moment of clarity, let me tell it jigga
I gave up liquor, I gave up smoking
Knowing that the green from being sober is way more potent
Now people poking noses in my business
Pinocchio and they lying, trying hard to figure out
Which ho I'm strokin' to use they lotion
I don't fuck no bitches, I got a wife now
Young nigga, grown rich nigga lifestyle
I could line every rapper up right now
And fade 'em with the bars to make every one of 'em lie down
Sleep, Poké Flute couldn't wake 'em up
Poke a stick at they body
Now po-po about to bring the cuffs
Oh no, I'm 'bout to do a bid
Oh shit, they 'bout to free the kid
Killin' bad rappers is legal across the nation, bitch
Die, die, die, die, die and I say it with passion
Half these people talkin' shit don't say shit
When you leave the Internet
And you happen to see 'em in passin'
It's just harder to see them outside of the actin'
It's more harder to see them outside of the laughin'
When they only with they friends and sayin' that your album trash
When right before they looked you in your face
And told you you were snappin'
They the ones that stab your back in when they catch you lackin'
They the ones that shouldn't have been in the womb instead of napkin
Capitalizin' off of these niggas lackin', what the fuck happened?
Niggas turned to kingpins, Twitter fingers they get to tappin'
Must've pushed the key under the tab, all your words is cappin'
Bitch, I am the captain, bitch, I am the chief
Bitch, I am the priest when I wake, bitch, you are deceased
Bitch, you are control, alt, delete, bitch, be gone for me
Bitch, you need to think before you speak
Bitch, you Candace Owens
Bitch, you panic knowing I don't need no XL stamp to excel
I just got 20 bands and transportation in a XL
To make them throw they hands and scream my lyrics
Meanwhile, people talkin'
Got me askin' "Where you at?" without a Nextel
No, for real, where you at? The internet still?
No, for real, where you at? Your mama crib still?
No for real, where you at?
My comment section usin' cracked iPhone 5Ss to hate my blessin's
Wildin', click your page
All I see is, "This profile page is private"
With a profile picture of Michael Jordan's face cryin'
Probably 'cause I'm ballin' like I'm Lebron and you retired
While a nigga still chasin' them rings like Blac Chyna
No major labels, keepin' up with niggas on major labels
When I sign, the label's keepin' up with me, you won't be able
Eatin' at my table, you ain't cool enough and that's the lingo
Now I put the classmates that used to laugh up on my payroll
Ho, I think I'm better than Cole, better than Dot
Fuck a tweet, bitch I'm just as good as Biggie and Pac
R.I.P., this my Kodak, Lil Xan, and Yachty talk
Akademiks cover him, Adam 22 with the shots
Y'all ain't got No Jumpers, double entendre, double entendre
You ain't catch it? Well, that's yo problem
Now listen, this ain't no dissin', this ain't no hate
But keep it real, this is the Freshmen I didn't make?
In other words, all of you rappers is just steak
When you fallin' off the bone of them charts, I'm eatin' your plate
You can't put me in a class when I'm busy teachin' 'em lessons
So next year, don't even hit me to be a Freshmen
I'm gon' fuck it up, too many bodies, too many stretchers
Better buckle up, too much gas and I'm in a Tesla
Testa Rossa in my future, they sleepin'
I got the rooster, they seated
I got the booster, I'm seein' over these losers
Please book me, Lollapalooza, I'm blowin', it's like a tuba
I'd blow his head with a Ruger if he hot and can't cool up
I'm blowin' like I'm a cougar's jaws, who's involved?
Whose acoustics make his sonics look like he's infused with Nas
Mixed with Gucci, cross him without a cross light
And you gon' see the crossroads twice, rest in Peace Phife
You gon' see life, pass before you better be nice
'Cause I will body everybody
If I see sight of a nigga that don't even blink right
Shoutout YBN Cordae, IDK is my name
Hi, this Trippie verse, bye
why do the drums sound very low quality?
Andrew MV no
I’m guessing cause the bass has been boasted
It's the fx on the bass . Whoever made this wanted it like that .
Can I use this for a song if I credit it?
Heeeee
I just realized that I'm a rich nigga
My mama and papa never made six figures
By 2019, I'll be at seven figures
This my moment of clarity, let me tell it jigga
I gave up liquor, I gave up smoking
Knowing that the green from being sober is way more potent
Now people poking noses in my business
Pinocchio and they lying, trying hard to figure out
Which ho I'm strokin' to use they lotion
I don't fuck no bitches, I got a wife now
Young nigga, grown rich nigga lifestyle
I could line every rapper up right now
And fade 'em with the bars to make every one of 'em lie down
Sleep, Poké Flute couldn't wake 'em up
Poke a stick at they body
Now po-po about to bring the cuffs
Oh no, I'm 'bout to do a bid
Oh shit, they 'bout to free the kid
Killin' bad rappers is legal across the nation, bitch
Die, die, die, die, die and I say it with passion
Half these people talkin' shit don't say shit
When you leave the Internet
And you happen to see 'em in passin'
It's just harder to see them outside of the actin'
It's more harder to see them outside of the laughin'
When they only with they friends and sayin' that your album trash
When right before they looked you in your face
And told you you were snappin'
They the ones that stab your back in when they catch you lackin'
They the ones that shouldn't have been in the womb instead of napkin
Capitalizin' off of these niggas lackin', what the fuck happened?
Niggas turned to kingpins, Twitter fingers they get to tappin'
Must've pushed the key under the tab, all your words is cappin'
Bitch, I am the captain, bitch, I am the chief
Bitch, I am the priest when I wake, bitch, you are deceased
Bitch, you are control, alt, delete, bitch, be gone for me
Bitch, you need to think before you speak
Bitch, you Candace Owens
Bitch, you panic knowing I don't need no XL stamp to excel
I just got 20 bands and transportation in a XL
To make them throw they hands and scream my lyrics
Meanwhile, people talkin'
Got me askin' "Where you at?" without a Nextel
No, for real, where you at? The internet still?
No, for real, where you at? Your mama crib still?
No for real, where you at?
My comment section usin' cracked iPhone 5Ss to hate my blessin's
Wildin', click your page
All I see is, "This profile page is private"
With a profile picture of Michael Jordan's face cryin'
Probably 'cause I'm ballin' like I'm Lebron and you retired
While a nigga still chasin' them rings like Blac Chyna
No major labels, keepin' up with niggas on major labels
When I sign, the label's keepin' up with me, you won't be able
Eatin' at my table, you ain't cool enough and that's the lingo
Now I put the classmates that used to laugh up on my payroll
Ho, I think I'm better than Cole, better than Dot
Fuck a tweet, bitch I'm just as good as Biggie and Pac
R.I.P., this my Kodak, Lil Xan, and Yachty talk
Akademiks cover him, Adam 22 with the shots
Y'all ain't got No Jumpers, double entendre, double entendre
You ain't catch it? Well, that's yo problem
Now listen, this ain't no dissin', this ain't no hate
But keep it real, this is the Freshmen I didn't make?
In other words, all of you rappers is just steak
When you fallin' off the bone of them charts, I'm eatin' your plate
You can't put me in a class when I'm busy teachin' 'em lessons
So next year, don't even hit me to be a Freshmen
I'm gon' fuck it up, too many bodies, too many stretchers
Better buckle up, too much gas and I'm in a Tesla
Testa Rossa in my future, they sleepin'
I got the rooster, they seated
I got the booster, I'm seein' over these losers
Please book me, Lollapalooza, I'm blowin', it's like a tuba
I'd blow his head with a Ruger if he hot and can't cool up
I'm blowin' like I'm a cougar's jaws, who's involved?
Whose acoustics make his sonics look like he's infused with Nas
Mixed with Gucci, cross him without a cross light
And you gon' see the crossroads twice, rest in Peace Phife
You gon' see life, pass before you better be nice
'Cause I will body everybody
If I see sight of a nigga that don't even blink right
Shoutout YBN Cordae, IDK is my name
Hi, this Trippie verse, bye