Congrats Freestyle Lyrics – Russ

Yeah, the more beef than the less bread

Uh, quiet women give the best head

Rappers doin’ dope, went from trying to be like Hov’

Now they’d rather rock and roll and be like Led Zepp’

Linsanity the way I shocked the game

Momma hoppin’ out the Bentley, sister hoppin’ out the Range

Stop the blame for my entourage, just stop droppin’ names

And you gon’ stop getting dropped and mollywopped by the gang

Do your thang, just keep mе out of it

My money does gymnastics, man, I’m tryna make somе houses flip

The sound of shit hittin’ the fan turns me on

‘Cause I just been addicted to chaos since early on

I’ve surely gone off the ledge a couple times by now

Pandemic hit, rappers sellin’ sex right now

I don’t gangbang, but trust me, bro, I’m set right now

Real bosses don’t need to chase a check right now

It’s for the best right now, you go broke so you can wake up

You struggling, your labelhead is somewhere in Jamaica

Eatin’ jerk chicken, drinking Appleton rum

Fix your mind state, that’s when all the capital comes

Fake titties feel like rocks, I like the natural ones

I like a girl who gives me head without me asking for some

Way to step up to the plate and take initiative

Peace of mind, the only thing that’s on my Christmas list

Business is boomin’, Ruben, I ain’t stutter

My career ain’t reach its climax yet, I ain’t Usher

I’m not your brother ’cause we took a pic

You must be higher than when Snoop handed me kush to hit

Shush a bitch swiftly, shh, it’s me

I could teach you how to be a player, Chris Brickley

Pick me ass bitches on the timeline making Alfredo

Posting quotes they don’t live by, thinking they Plato

Y’all ain’t foolin’ anyone except the dumb ones

Whole game is Wayne, Drake, Future, Young Thug sons

I just skipped customs ’cause I took a jet

I’ma eat forever, I took equity, you took a check

Short term dough, not lookin’ past your nose

Lotta y’all don’t listen to Nipsey and it shows

You get around a bad bitch, you quick to make a post

I can tell you didn’t get pussy when you were broke

Me, I keep it on the low ’cause the mystique is player

I don’t care about the hate shit, I was sixteen with haters

Tryna diss me for paper, end up backfiring

We gon’ take your diamonds, make your eyes look like sapphires

But I’m tryna chill on the violence

Well connected, pressin’ rappers at wireless

Why you tryna fight me? You should try to fight your stylist and management

I can’t argue with people who think it’s fly to buy the mannequin

Low taste, don’t talk to me

Fuck a Uber, bitch, walk to me, show me that you want it

Yeah, I brag about tickets, plaques and ownership, sue me

Y’all brag about Moncler and Gucci on your body

So how come I’m the only one who gets called cocky?

As if rap isn’t braggadocios

At least what I brag about can get you bags

Instead of handin’ over cash to someone racist who just uses y’all for black promotion (Damn)

Way to stick it to the man

You really showed him by putting cash in his hand

Walked out the store then you post him on the ‘Gram

Now your fans are his fans

Primis Player Placeholder

The cycle repeats, congrats, stupid