Rich Homie Quan - The Author lyrics

The average person like Nard & B
Gon think this shit I'm talkin' bout made up
Or make believe or some shit
But nah man, this my everyday life dawg
Trenchwerk

I got some stories I'm tellin'
But they not made up
Don't try to dap me, just spare me
Don't want that fake love
18 ain't know ‘bout no Rollie, wanted a Jacob
So when I tell you this story
Know they not made up
Keep on my chain when I fuck her
Bae yeah we made love
It took eight months and a couple
Weeks just to save up
I told my mama go get it
Because she know I got it
Might buy the house I grew up in
Just to say I bought it

We just extra flexin' (yeah)
Hundred racks on a necklace (ohh)
First time I got booked in Houston
Sold out show in Texas (sold out showing)
I couldn't make no money off this at first
This shit was stressful (at first it was)
I was in these niggas face with my CD
Just like a freckle (aye, aye)
I was prolly leavin' the studio
When they was on they way to breakfast
When they was prolly goin' to sleep
I was still up I was goin' extra
Right before the new Walmart
I was still on Gresham
I told myself, "Never fall off
Quan you gotta do better"
I do this shit in real life nigga
No make-believe (no, no)
I was broke as hell growin' up
Now fifty what I make a week (yeah, yeah)
Rich in spirit, that the way to be
(rich homie baby) these niggas cotton
And I'm harder than 'em (that right too)
It's copywritten 'cause I wrote it
I'm the author nigga

I got some stories I'm tellin'
But they not made up
Don't try to dap me, just spare me
Don't want that fake love
18 ain't know 'bout no Rollie, wanted a Jacob
So when I tell you these stories
Know they not made up
Keep on my chain when I fuck her
Bae ya we made love
It took eight months and a couple
Weeks just to save up i told my mama
Go get it because she know I got it
Might buy the house I grew up in
Just to say I bought it

At the strip club, we at day shift
Fifty thousand on my bracelet
Eight months I was savin'
House so big no neighbors yeah
Tryna out ball my paper yeah
Real life story not made up (nah)
In high school fuckin' hoes by Stephenson
Out by Decatur (fuck them hoes)
Smokin' by the cafeteria back near the gyms
Smokin' mid throwin' out the seeds
And spittin' out the stems
(spittin' out the stems)
Niggas tried to count me dow
So I had to bend the rim (I bent my act)
I remember mama house, recording, no engineer
(hey hey) remember when grandmama died
It hurt, couldn't shed a tear
I swear I saw my mama cry
Didn't know there'll be better years
(I love you mama)
I try to put away my pride, no middle
Face all my fears (nah real talk man)
We need a plate, don't try to starve us
Can't make this up when you the author
(rich homie baby)

I got some stories I'm tellin'
But they not made up
Don't try to dap me, just spare me
Don't want that fake love
18 ain't know 'bout no Rollie, wanted a Jacob
So when I tell you these stories
Know they not made up
Keep on my chain when I fuck her
Bae ya we made love
It took eight months and a couple
Weeks just to save up
I told my mama go get it
Because she know I got it
Might buy the house I grew up in
Just to say I bought it

Trenchwerk