intro
Pop was here last week (all I need)
He was talking about Brooklyn and the place Brooklyn was at
How they were really like, thriving like right now
He was tryna (all I need), pull people up with him
He wasn't even into where he was about to be
He just was trying to, he was trying to get there
He was on his, he was well on his way (all I need)
Um, it's just tragic (all I)
20 years old, Rest in Peace
chorus
Look, nigga, we made it (grrr, woo, bow)
Nigga, we made it, we made it (woo)
Thank God that I made it (grrr, bow)
Nigga, we made it, we made it (woo)
Look, momma, I made it (grrt)
verse
Look, I remember the days
Same 'fit for a week straight
I used to eat 50 Cent cake
It's Philippe's for the steak
And hella thots up in the Wraith
I can't wife that thot, tell that bitch, "Get out of my face"
We killed your big brother, we killed your little brother
verse
It's Philippe's for the steak
And hella thots up in the Wraith
Said I hop in a Lamb' and skrrt off
I spent 50 up in Bergdorf
I got shit you never heard of
Buy it, I don't care what it cost, no
And I always keep a pole, rain, snow, I did a hundred on a pro
If you droppin' a woo, we come where you live
Glock 9, infrared, pull up, and empty the clip, woo
chorus
Look, nigga, we made it (grrr, woo, bow)
Nigga, we made it, we made it (woo)
Thank God that I made it (grr, bow)
Nigga, we made it, we made it (woo)
Look, momma, I made it (grrt)
bridge
We come from the trenches, nigga
Trap, trap (woo), same fit for a week straight (grrt)
You know what I'm sayin'?
50 Cent cake, now, we eatin' Philippe's steak (haha)
verse
Tyler got the album of the year, for now
But Pop about to drop, I see the platinum in the clouds
Now Push about to drop, so real trappers stick around
The crown is only for the king, they tryna place it on a clown
I declare war, nickname, "He Sell Raw"
Different city, same ghetto, bring the Woos on tour
Push-start, drop top, 8-12, two-door
Baby Rover, Benz, Coupe, bitch, you gotta choose yours
verse
How can I not? Woo, how can I not?
When a brick is 36, bitch, how could I stop?
These Richard Milles are one-of-one, shit, how could I watch?
We made it, we made it, whether you like it or not
chorus
Look, nigga, we made it (grrr, woo, bow)
Nigga, we made it, we made it (woo)
Thank God that I made it (grrr, bow)
Nigga, we made it, we made it (woo)
Look, momma, I made it (grrr)
Writer(s): Kanye Omari West, Malik Yusef El Shabbaz Jones, Jahmal Desmond Gwin, Michael John Mule, Mark Carl Stolinski Williams, Raul Ignacio Cubina, Bashar Barakah Jackson, Isaac De Boni