Low-Key - Hopsin

Niggas on the bad slope, finna crash woah

Tryna show the hoes the cash flow (Nigga I’m too low-key for that)

My foot is on the gas though

Got my hat low, still an asshole, yeah ho (I'm not too low-key for that)

Nigga I just do what I does, what’s up

What it do, what’s up, what it do

You’re blowin' all your money on the hoes and the cars bro

It’s all dope, but we all know (Nigga I’m too low-key for that)

I’ll admit my last few years have been kinda rusty

Have I been beating myself up, in my mind I must be

I slowed down, watching my peers as they rise above me

'Cause rap’s a leap of faith except nobody ties the bungee

These times are ugly

I’m close to my midlife, the crisis haunts me

Calm on the surface but inside I’m grumpy

If I was comfy, I’d say «fuck rap», because life is complete

Surprise I’m hungry, rappers looking like fries and lunch meat

Damn you got the hoes, you got a grill, you making mills huh (Huh)

When you be flexing you looking so icy that I get the chills son (Huh)

I seen you pull up in your whip and you stopped but somehow the wheels spun

(Damn)

Who is the plug for the drugs?

Tell me where you get the pills from

I heard you came from the real slums

What the fuck you gon' do when your deal’s done?

Nigga the day that you fizzle out will come

If you think it ain’t comin' you’re real dumb

That ain’t a bag you made off your talent

That is a label allowance

And we gon' see in the end if you really could pay off the balance,

bitch (I'm too low-key for that)

Niggas on the bad slope, finna crash woah

Tryna show the hoes the cash flow (Nigga I’m too low-key for that)

My foot is on the gas though

Got my hat low, still an asshole, yeah ho (I'm not too low-key for that)

Nigga I just do what I does, what’s up

What it do, what’s up, what it do

You’re blowin' all your money on the hoes and the cars bro

It’s all dope, but we all know (Nigga I’m too low-key for that)

I could care less about expensive gold chains

I’m gettin' more plays from spittin' propane

Bitch this is no game

I don’t fuck with hoes who hang with rappers and want fame

Fuck the swaggy shit now I’m livin' like it’s the old days

So pack your bags you had your chance this might be the

Avalanche that wipes it up

I’m back to rockin' baggy pants and wife beaters

Bitch your time is up

This my master plan and lightning struck

Don’t get caught in fires that my ashy hands is writing up

Been had the fucking game on lock

Been had my pesos copped

Been plottin' deeply tryna take your spot

I can’t erase those thoughts, my drive is something that these fakes don’t got

Their vision blurry tryna chase those thots

You tryna do it independent but you ain’t no Hop

The indie valedictorian, bitch, my grades don’t drop

Quit tryna move me

Beast mode is where my mind is usually

Y’all focused on Louis Vuitton and Gucci, I told you (I'm too low-key for that)

Niggas on the bad slope, finna crash woah

Tryna show the hoes the cash flow (Nigga I’m too low-key for that)

My foot is on the gas though

Got my hat low, still an asshole, yeah ho (I'm not too low-key for that)

Nigga I just do what I does, what’s up

What it do, what’s up, what it do

You’re blowin' all your money on the hoes and the cars bro

It’s all dope, but we all know (Nigga I’m too low-key for that)

Nigga I’m too low-key for that

I’m way too low-key for that

Nigga I’m too low-key for that

Nigga I’m too low-key for that