Cordae, Brent Faiyaz, Logic - Where Did the Love Go lyrics

My fuckin' Dodge Stratus deadass
Expressing myself oh my god, I'm about to

Uh, where did the love go?
It seems like the world filled with hatred
God forbid that you make it and
Your bank account ain't basic
Your girl above average
You a person with some status
You switch to a Ferrari from
A fuckin' Dodge Stratus
They saying that you changed
They can't understand or grasp it
Goddamn what a tragic
Should've saw it like magic
If it ever disappear, realize who really here
The fake love and real love
Is all crystal clear
I can see that shit from mileage away
Talkin' shit, but always smilе in my face
Never been proudеr to say
I don't want no fake friends
On some industry shit
Being real is one way to gain enemies quick

Ooh (M-m-m) , had to shake these demons up off of me
Ooh (Mmm-mmm) , don't want shit niggas offerin'
Ooh (ooh yeah) , another lost boy is awful
She just struck a chord, like guitar, for me
Found a new joy, I thank God for it

I know the bills late, rent is due
Shitty job interviews
So when a nigga vent to you
My problems seem minuscule
How dare I complain about the spoils of fame
It's a nigga that will crash out
To get up in my lane
See I don't have a therapist
This rap shit I cherish it
And venting on the mic
Quite frankly is embarrassing
But this the only way I can express myself
We all tryna find the answers
I can't guess myself
Last year I was broke as fuck
And doors wouldn't open up
Now I can't roll with us
Somebody grab the robituss'
I'm sick of this
Feeling caged in like Nicholas
Blood pressure high
Stress levels is ridiculous
But never woe is me
This is therapeutic poetry
And I don't tell nobody about my problems
So hopefully
This will have a mothafuckin' snowball effect
Don't mope all depressed
Just know y'all is blessed one love

Yeah, yeah (Ooh ah, save yourself)
Rattpack, motherfucker, what's up? (Ooh ah)
Haha, you know you gotta put a stamp on it
Ayy (Don't need no help)

Destined for a life behind bars
But now where I'm living is gated, I made it
Made million on millions I'm elated
But never outdated I move with the times
Do whatever suit's me like Louis
Vuitton, one of a kind, the don
A legend that's destined to pass
The baton and so on
I don't mean to go on, but
(Go on) , okay, fine i'ma get mine
No shade let me shine in due time
My rhyme is nothing but classic
Most people fake
Nothing but plastic get ya ass kicked
Quick take a sip
Bitches know I'm packin like a trip
Now get the fuck off my dick, I'm just a man
Bullshit make me sick, good pussy make me cum
Most never make it where I'm from
Feel these kicks in my soul
Getting money was the goal now
It's be a good person
What you thinkin' 'bout? What
You thinkin' 'bout?
What you thinkin' 'bout, Bobby?

Yeah ooh ah, save yourself
Ooh ah, don't need no help