I know I sell myself short, lookin' at the ceiling fan Spin around again and again This repetition got me stuck in a trance, big Glock in my pants Florida boy, do your dance, yeah, I made me some bands Yeah, I got me a Benz, yeah, I got me a chain And I still feel the same, and I still feel the same I put on for these rappers, I think I'm changing the game But if they don't feel the same, then fuck it, get in my lane And see if you can get the crowd movin' for you the same And see if you can get the crowd movin' for you the same, yuh Is this it? Is that all? Got my back to the wall As I'm lookin' around, anticipatin' my fall Searchin' for answers but stuck with these questions Is somebody tryna teach me a new lesson? Is this it? Is that all? Is this it? Is that all? (Alright, let's go, let's go) How long should I wait until I move on? Back to the air mattress and the coupons I realized it'll never be enough for me What do I gotta do to live comfortably? I think I'd give it back if it was up to me My mind's not movin' like it's supposed to be These labels need to really back off of me I really don't care what they offer me Okay, now you talkin' money, I guess you do speak my language I don't give a fuck who you is or who you hang with Baby Bone, no, I never been the one to stay silent Everybody, grab your guns, let's start a riot Are you so sick and tired of these men in your pockets That never even left the office but promise to give you just what you wanted? Oh no, now they got you stuck in a financial coffin Now you gotta pay 'em back with every cent of your profit