Don Q, Pusha T - Words of Wisdom lyrics

Don yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah i like this type of vibe yeah

Don't you ever question my greatness
Come see the legacy this legend creating
Testing my patience, your label gon' have to
Check for replacements
The Wraith a call away
I bring it out on special occasions
Motha's onto me
Used to hide my work right next to the vases
Nightmares haunting me
Feeling like the last breath I was taking
God was warning me
Now every morning I'm checking for faces
Now that I get paid to party
I show up and bring my army
Better off safe than sorry
I'm never gonna play Safaree
LA nights boogie had the Lambo
I played the 'Rari
Selling white and I ain't tell 'em a
Word when they came and charged me
I never worked a shift
I got it from the first to fifth
I had to learn the tricks like stuff
The bags and burn the tips
Christmas time I couldn't tell my daughter
I ain't earned a cent
I had to hit the curb and pitch
I leave and I return with gifts
Made decisions to keep my momma
With a place to live
And stayed up wishing that she never
Seen them dinner plates was missing
Where I'm from the young wild
Niggas just hate to listen
Cause the old heads before us ain't show
Us how to make a difference i feel upset
My killers check whoever's sending threats
You still in debt
Got pendin’ checks and I ain't
Get to spend 'em yet nothing in direct
I'm still a living legend in the flesh
I remember deaths I couldn't cope but
Dog I'm still a mess
Bitches left and I wish 'em best
I know she feel depressed
You the one it should effect
Your loyalty was just a test bitch, Don!
Bitch!

Back to the future how I
Hit 'em with the flows
This coupe isn't born
You need nine months to grow
Marty McFly like I'm nineteen years old
I'm Marty McPie sell 'em
Thousand dollars an O
Yellow gold, keep it classic
Big money been around, push weight Jurassic
Send your bitch to Aspen for her b day
Send your younger bitch to Coachella
For bout three days
Same circle pass each other like a relay
You live in, I land on
Difference between our PJ's
Niggas still making albums
Using label budgets i get it out the streets
Before the label touch it
Take two years and tell the label fuck it
My kilos streaming in the streets
Without a single buzzing
Never wore all saints, retired Balmain
Ball players turn them shit's
Into a mall thing
Showroom shopper, the clerk is scrambling
JW Anderson, I'm the mannequin
You highbridge niggas done made me fans again
And Don Q got y'all panicking push