Bobby Fishscale Made It
[Intro]
(Ayo, Lifted)
[Chorus]
You can call me Mike-Will 'cause I motherfucking made it
Want me to go back to the old me, you motherfucking crazy
I ain't beefin' with you niggas, too much money to be chasing
It ain't nobody else fault that your hustle game lazy
I'm makin' songs everyday, still re-ing up with plates
I was fifteen the first time I ate Frosted Flakes
I made it from where you would get your ass murked if you play
Made it out that play, thought they'd congratulate but they hate
[Verse 1]
"How you made it through the trenches?"
"How you made it through the violencе?"
"How you made it to the Roc?"
They think I'm Illuminati
I had junkiеs at the door, I had momma house crowded
Couldn't learn about division, had to worry 'bout dyin'
Flashback, brother funeral
Still remember momma crying
When I just sell a line, reach down and touch the iron
I made it out bussin' bike, 38's, Draco's, and 9's
When I think about this shit, I could've died ninety times
[Chorus]
You can call me Mike-Will 'cause I motherfucking made it
Want me to go back to the old me, you motherfucking crazy
I ain't beefin' with you niggas, too much money to be chasing
It ain't nobody else fault that your hustle game lazy
I'm makin' songs everyday, still re-ing up with plates
I was fifteen the first time I ate Frosted Flakes
I made it from where you would get your ass murked if you play
Made it out that play, thought they'd congratulate but they hate
[Verse 2]
Had to make my own dope, had to make my own strand
Hit 'em with them fishy feet, had to make my own dance
Had to buck the landlord, we was living off the land
Had believe in myself, no one want give Fish a chance
When you were paying twenty-three, I was gettin' 'em for a band
You were gettin' dropped at school, I was holding grandma hand
She was walking in the heat, AC, a church fan
I was sweating in my sleep, we ain't even have a fan
[Chorus]
You can call me Mike-Will 'cause I motherfucking made it
Want me to go back to the old me, you motherfucking crazy
I ain't beefin' with you niggas, too much money to be chasing
It ain't nobody else fault that your hustle game lazy
I'm makin' songs everyday, still re-ing up with plates
I was fifteen the first time I ate Frosted Flakes
I made it from where you would get your ass murked if you play
Made it out that play, thought they'd congratulate but they hate
