Dirty Scale (Jay) - IDK

I cop an O from O, I break it down at home

I sell a J to Chris, a couple more to Mo

And when it’s almost done, I take a few to the dome

And send a text from my phone

And then I re-up, re-up

I ain’t sellin' it to make a livin'

I’m just sellin' it to make some music

Understand me when I tell you that this industry lives off the root of evil

You ain’t got it then your ass is useless

I guess I sold my soul, for the only thing that can cure my soul

And kill the cancer living in people’s earlobes

On channel 5, too, all I see is fly dudes

Rapping 'bout money, hoes, more hoes, and nice shoes

It’s cool because I’m creating some substance

Fueled by all this money that I’m makin' when I’m hustlin'

The substance, assumptions are made when they think

That I get paid from the raps that I write

When it’s really from the haze, blaze

A little bit of cannabis after the fact

After I’ve sold the last of the pack

New clothes and shoes isn’t what I’m investing in to

I’m sellin' to make my dreams a reality

When I wake up from this snooze

I cop an O from O, I break it down at home

I sell a J to Chris, a couple more to Mo

And when it’s almost done, I take a few to the dome

And send a text from my phone

And then I re-up, re-up

Said I ain’t sellin' it to make a livin'

I’m just sellin' it to pay for promotion

In hopes that you would listen

Most rappers make it off major connects and cosigns

But my success is based off consistency in this low grime

So every time you grind the purple you cop from me

Just know that you the reason for my video money

No label paid for me, I paved the way for me

Tradin' dimes for recordin' time

And tre fives for mo' beats, exclusives ain’t cheap

But thank God for Jab and Scott Hutch heat

See that just took off half the risk that I’m taking

Cause all this money I’m makin' is goin' to makin'

My music sound like major labels made it

Though, I hate it, it won’t stop me from slavin'

Cause this shit you callin' rap is really mine for the takin'

All I see is black and white, no in between like I’m racist

If I can’t be on your playlist, I would rather be with Satan

I cop an O from O, I break it down at home

I sell a J to Chris, a couple more to Mo

And when it’s almost done, I take a few to the dome

And send a text from my phone

And then I re-up, re-up

Ay, lil nigga

All that sellin' weed shit ain’t gon' get you paid

You need to step your motherfuckin' game up