On My Own - Blended Babies, The Cool Kids, Lorine Chia

Live from the mic where we customize raps

We write the whole check, don’t split

Incense billow in the room

I’mma take this and chill

Make medication for that, now pop a pill

Slow, like a snail in a rap

What’s the real deal get the baggages packed

Good job, let me send you this postcard

Stamps cost an arm and a leg, congratulate y’all

Don’t drop it, you had it in your hands

with short arms, gotta learn how to throw it far

The nature of me, San Diego Chargers

Dodgers, managers, Tommy

with glasses, toast

This is what we came here for, take notes

Outside in the storm and I’m sittin' on the

Sellin' umbrellas, jackets and raincoats

Ain’t no givin' my soul

Ain’t nobody I owe

I’mma just go on my own

Know I gotta make this dough

I couldn’t settle for the ‘coulda, shoulda, woulda'

So I took my shot like a 15-footer

Backboard glass nigga and I still throw my setup mans

M-Town, M’s down better clear the lane

When we charge through, my homeboys feel the same

Can’t let that time writtin' rhymes all go in vain

Grab this dog by the chain til I’m ridin' in that thing

That’s all that I really want, the car, some change

You gotta chill, bump into that table make the pasta spill

They gonna charge you for the bill, your pop as well

Man I had fish fillet with the pasta shells

I’m feelin' cleaner than a mobster, they watch us well

This industry is like Contra if they don’t really want you

In there, been there, done that, run back, run laps

‘round most niggas with ease, we posted in the Keyes of Florida

Offshore and they hopin' that we leave

But we already sorta set up shop for the week

Boat shoes on a boat, both passenger seats is filled in

Glass bottom floor you can build in