502 Come Up lyrics

[Intro]
Yeah-yeah-eah-eah
For real though
It's so wild now
This sh*t crazy, yeah

[Verse 1]
Woke up in the hills this morning
Asking myself, how did I get here this morning?
'Vante Parker in that teal and orange
And Russell in that gold and purple
Youngest from the Ville, important
I used to sit up in my room and ponder
Finished school and get a Doctors
I'm twenty-two, I gotta get it now
Man who knew he'd have it figured out?
Trapsoul, man, I crack codes
Crack cocaine, that's what we putting out
These f*ck n*ggas saying
Don't forget when you was broke, I was looking out
And some say there's levels to this sh*t
Damn, look at all the levels that I skipped
Feeling like there's a medal I should get
All these haters getting heavy on my di*k
Look at my n*ggas, chasing paper
Getting books with my n*ggas
So how the f*ck can people back home say I shook on my n*ggas?
Your two cents ain't working for me
All you n*ggas sound commercial to me, man
I don't like commercial n*ggas
Please shut the f*ck up before I hurt you (f*ck your feelings)
Don't take it personal (it's nothing personal)
This a Derby City come up, this a Derby City vertical
First 48, straight murder you
[Interlude]
For years and years we waited on this, living in a place folks didn't know exist
Surprise motherf*cker, we up in this b*tch
I said I'm back and I'm so much better
I'm so, so much better and I won't stop (Louis)
I can't stop, not now (Louis) not ever (Louis, Louis)

[Verse 2]
Louis slugger with the hits
Knock them out the park then I'm knocking down your b*tch
I'm watching how you pitch
I'm not from Houston, no, I'm not from 'round the six
Got the four series, I should cop the six after the World Series
I just talked to Rich 'bout palm trees and bad b*tches
And how these snakes can harm me with bad business
Damn, f*ck out of here, n*gga
It's very rare for young black men to come up out of here, n*gga
Some will call it luck and some will call me up, I ain't heard from you in years
Please get the f*ck out my ear, n*gga
My peers get it, only G-O-D can judge me, f*ck the jurisdiction
I'm working, ain't got time for thirsting over how these chicks appear in pictures
I'm just painting crystal-clear pictures, brushing up on my lyrics n*gga
I just wish momma was here to live up under chandeliers with us
I guess all I ever had to do was take this sh*t a little more serious
Let's get it
[Outro]
There's not much to say
Woah, I'm from the Southside
God Tiller

Damn