The Ride

You won’t feel me until everybody

Say they love you, but it’s not love

And your suit is oxblood

And the girl you fucking hates you

And your friends faded off shots of

What you ordered

Then forget about the game that you on top of

Your famous girlfriend's ass getting thicker than the plot does

And when you forget it, that's when she pop up

And you got a drop but you ride around with the top up

Or three SUVs for niggas dressed like refugees

And deal with the questions about all your excessive needs

And you do dinners at French Laundry in Napa Valley

Scallops and glasses of Dolce

That shit's right up your alley

You see a girl and you ask about her

Bitches smiling at you, it must be happy hour

They put the cloth across your lap soon as you sat down

It’s feeling like you own every place you choose to be at now

Walking through airport security with your hat down

Instead of getting a pat down

They just keep on saying that they feel you nigga

I’ve been faded too long, ooh

I’ve been faded too long, ooh

I’ve been faded too long, ooh

When will it stop? The ride

When will it stop? The ride

You won't feel me til you want it so bad you tell yourself you’re in it

And tell the world around you that your paperwork is finished

And steal your mother's debit cards so you maintain an image

And ride around in overpriced

Rental cars that ain't tinted

You need a minute? You got it

You know its real when your

Latest nights are your greatest nights

The sun is up when you get home, that's just a way of life

Apartment 1503: some couches and paintings

When you record with two others that want the same things

It start to feel better than home feels

And so you up there every night, you swear you getting close

That champagne money was for gas and phone bills

But shit, you 'bout to spend it on what matters most

You drop a couple songs in hopes that you could beat a nigga

And come out every night to let the city see they nigga

Telling stories that nobody relate to

And even though they hate you

They just keep on telling you they feel you, nigga

It's been too long man

I’ve been faded too long, ooh

I’ve been faded too long, ooh

I’ve been faded too long, ooh

When will it stop? The ride

When will it stop? The ride

I haven't been inside Terminal 1 and 3 in so long

I’m driving right up to it now, make sure you got your coat on

That runway can be cold especially after summer's rolled on

And all you knew is alcohol and city lights and slow songs

For four months out the year, it's got you asking whats good at home

What's good at home?

The same hoes are still at it, I shoulda known

My young niggas popping M’s and sipping dirty Jones

Problem children that all be repping October's Own

Brand new girl, and she still growing

Brand new titties, stitches still showing

Yeah, and she just praying that it heals good

I’m 'bout to fuck and I’m just praying that it feels good

I really don’t know much but shit I know a secret

They say mo' money mo' problems, my nigga don’t believe it

I mean, sure, there’s some bills and taxes I’m still evading

But I blew six million on myself and I feel amazing

Young money maker, season ticket-holder

Season switching over

I come through them bitches still scorching as if I didn’t notice

You niggas getting older, I see no threat in Yoda

I’m out here messing over the lives of these niggas

That couldn’t fuck with my freshman floater

Look at that fucking chip on your nephew's shoulder

My sophomore I was all for it, they all saw it

My junior and senior will only get meaner

Take care, nigga

I'm still

Faded, faded, faded

The ride

Still

Faded, faded, faded

When will it stop? The ride

When will it stop? The ride

When will it stop? Ooh, the ride