Words of Wisdom - Don Q, Pusha T

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 reef a call away, I bring it out on special occasions

Motha’s onto me

Used to hide my work 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 showed us how to make a difference

I feel upset, my killers check whoever’s sending threats

You still in debt, got plenty 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

Don, Bitch!

Back to the future how I hit 'em with the flows

This coop 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 shits into a mall thing

Showroom shop, the clerk is scrambling

JW Anderson, I’m the manikin

You hybridge niggas done made me fans again

And Don Q got y’all panicking

Push