Trae Tha Truth - I'm On 3.0

[Intro: Trae tha Truth & D.R.A.M.]

Shit (oh-whoa, whoa)

They say three times the charm, huh? (No-whoa)

Hehe, I got ya

[Verse 1: Trae tha Truth]

Yeah, all gas, fast livin' like somethin' was speedin'

Ashy to classy now I bless 'em like someone who sneezin'

I'm only here to give 'em pressure, bitch, picture me squeezin'

Against the world like I was Pac, wasn't nobody believin'

Nothin' deceivin', know the truth, what the fuck you was needin'?

We gather this evenin' for the one, reputation was steamin'

Vision me gleamin' from the mud, ain't no point in you cleanin'

I'm motivation for the ones who nobody was feedin'

Automatic still give 'em the same kick

Started the sideline now I'm starrin' in Game 6

Spit and make 'em replay it like they're stuck on the same disc

Work, I give 'em new, never stretchin' the same brick

Never the same chick, yeah I'm still on that same shit

Cop me a new spot, tryna see where the plane fits

Picture me with a crown, next to that where my name sits

Galaxy in the ceilin' just to show 'em what fame gets

[Verse 2: T.I.]

Hm, in the heart of the jungle walkin' through the fire

You beat the charge if you showed up with an alibi

Runnin' wild in the city, no direction

All we know is get that dough, run up the checks and

Huh, I'm self-made, wasn't made for the military

Get paid, dodge jail and the cemetery

You better reach for the stars, take your best shot

You let them haters kill your dream, your ass be assed out, fo'real

[Verse 3: Dave East]

Uhh, fill a Backwood with three nicks

V6 cut the coke, remix

Squeeze clips if ever we hear that he snitched

I'm allergic to broke niggas in the precinct

Found out my man was hatin' and we ain't speak since

Barney's, Nord's can't add up the paper we spent

Tryna get drunk, I'm tokin', I got a P bent

I touched a million, ain't sleep since, on defense

[Verse 4: Tee Grizzley]

Freedom got me feelin' like I flown up

Out of prison, I ain't think that I was blowin' up

Bunch of young rich niggas holdin' Rollies up

Run up on us, watch how quick I'll lift the toaster up

Money got me feelin' like you can't control us

Servin', watchin' out for the patrollers

We used to play the game, bring your controllers

Seen niggas get killed, heart froze up

Picked up them choppas, got to go and duck

Shootin' everything up, it ain't no ho in us

Shit ain't even last, free bro and them

In Chicago I'm home, that's on foe and them

Now I'm thinkin' right 'cause I see I can make it

Saw the fam strugglin' and I couldn't take it

You got it out the mud, I got it out the pavement

I used to miss payments, got the title, dare you try to take it

Hah!

[Verse 5: Royce Da 5'9"]

Triple OG

Never without vision or livin' goal-free

Never writ it though, I've been out gettin' this since '03

Every little red cent and every dividend

Has been counted and acquired

Been legit, legal and been with the code

I'm colder than December in the winter cold

Look, I've been out givin' canned goods and clothes

To the children on 34th, real nigga, ugh

[Verse 6: Curren$y]

I could put you on like socks

Put you on like my watch

Put you on the block, you can get that off

Put you on the right lot, you can get that car

Put you on like a fitted, put you on in my city

Got the stars in the ceilin'

That's the Wraith, got the top in the trunk, that's a don

I could give it to a nigga either way 'cause I'm on, L

[Chorus: D.R.A.M., Gary Clark, Jr., & Mark Morrison]

I'm on (whoa) I'm on

I'm on (whoa) I'm on

I'm on (whoa) I'm on

I'm on (whoa) yeah

[Verse 7: Snoop Dogg]

Wakin' up, feelin' good, rollin' through the neighborhood

Do or die, every day, I lead 'em in a different way

I don't take no mess, get it off of my chest

I'ma be dressed to impress, no stress, fresh

Off the Eastside, Trae called me up and said

"Unc', I'ma need you on the B-side"

So I came through-a, mic checked, one-two-a

Gettin' real funky, kinda smell like manure

Eight cars, eight stars

Return of the mack with these hot eight bars

Flip through it, dip through it

This is the shit that'll make you get to it

Break down, give it up, pour it up

Now drink it up, roll it up

Light it up, how you feel, y'all?

See you in high definition with a mothafuckin' real Dogg

[Verse 8: Fabolous]

And every day I'm on

And if I wasn't, then why would I say I'm on?

Get an M and get low, that's the Dre I'm on

Get a B in blue, that's the Jay I'm on

They on sidelines watchin' what play I'm on

I call a audible, that's what a baller do

They keep askin' me, "Is there more to do?"

Well, ain't water wet? Well then it's more to get

Til' my shorty's set, and his shorty's set

This game ain't over, it's more quarters left

I gotta rep my city, do it for the set

I gotta talk my shit until I'm short of breath

Cause the world is full of niggas tryna off your on switch

Tryna find a place that your coffin gon' fit

Me and my niggas on some confidant shit

And we ain't really feelin' that off and on shit, I'm on

[Verse 9: Rick Ross]

Maybach Music

Chasin' paper, starin' out the casket

Was a stunna 'til they froze all the assets

Killers at your neck 'til you cut a check

You talkin' 'bout the money, nigga where it's at?

Cars for my dogs, do it for the cause

Right back here tomorrow nigga, inshallah

Prayin' on my knees, do it for the keep

Do it for the team or I'ma let it be

[Verse 10: Chamillionaire]

Hahah, Chamilitary mane

They thought I was done, but really I ain't even stress it

Just look at all the dough I got invested

Two years and two billion dollar exits

And now your relevance ain't lookin' that impressive (it ain't)

So glad we ain't gotta chase relevance

And I would like to thank the dead presidents

For not livin' forever-ever, forever-ever

For all of them that passed, I've been gettin' paid ever since

We okay, still paid, still stackin' it

We gon' stay, courtside, that's accurate

We gon' take the White House and get back in it

They tried to turn us into the villains like Colin Kaepernick

But it's okay, Gotham City needs savin'

They'll fight back but I'ma shock 'em like Raiden

I don't fold, I don't quit and don't cave in

Your worst nightmare, Freddy Krueger, Wes Craven

[Chorus: D.R.A.M., Gary Clark, Jr., & Mark Morrison]

I'm on, I'm on (whoa)

I'm on, I'm on (whoa)

I'm on, I'm on (whoa)

I'm on, yeah

[Verse 11: G-Eazy]

G, uhh, and I don't think he really needs any coachin'

The weather's gettin' hot, Eazy Season approachin'

Came up and everybody sees the devotion

I put the work in, I cause a commotion

Whenever I'm in public, modern-day Elvis

Hoes at my shows wanting selfies

Made it here and ain't nobody helped us

Now I'm on a path to be great so they say

That's what everybody tells us, ya know

[Verse 12: Styles P]

Raised knee-deep in the dope game

If I had two guns up then they was both aimed

Saturday mornin', I'm watchin' Soul Train

Eatin' leftover food, lo-mein

Now I'm plant-based, couple juice bars

I'm on now, I don't care if the stamp straight

Told Trae I'm the truth like his name is

Can show you what pain is, I'll tell you what game is

Ghost

[Chorus: D.R.A.M., Gary Clark, Jr., & Mark Morrison]

I'm on (whoa) I'm on

I'm on (whoa) I'm on

I'm on, I'm on

I'm on, I'm on

I'm on (ohh) I'm on

I'm on, I'm on (whoa)

I'm on, I'm on

I'm on

[Verse 13: E-40]

Ayy Trae, let The Counselor speak

E-40! The best that ever did it and got away with it

Let The Counselor speak

Not a septic tank, but I'm with the shit

On my Coast, I'm the topic and the subject

Where I'm from, it's hella squeeze and heathens' guns bust

I wish that TD Jakes would come and pray for us

They pimpin', they flockin', they like to steal and rob

Backdoor their loved ones, inside job

That's why I stay with a stapler, a baby tomahawk

Life or death situations in case I gotta pop

I made a promise to the Lord that I'ma keep it funky

Never switched, never sell my soul for money

I always been for right, maybe that's what's wrong

Now I'm on like the most requested song

Since a teen, I was doin' my thing, magazine

On the 1300 block, we had a machine

I had a quarter mil' at the age of 19

In the kitchen cookin' birdies with no wings

The best rappers come from the gravel, the slums

Empty rack with spaghetti sauce jars rockin' up crumbs

It ain't easy bein' on for 30 years

To see the glitter and glamour but not the blood, sweat and tears

I'm an old ass youngsta, bruh, I'm a vet

Sick Wid It Records, sellin' cassettes before the internet

I never made a mixtape in my life

But one day I'ma do it for my fans, the people that saved my life

I'm on

[Chorus: D.R.A.M., Gary Clark, Jr., & Mark Morrison]

I'm on, I'm on

I'm on, I'm on

I'm on, I'm on

I'm on, yeah, ohh

I'm on, I'm on

I'm on, ooh yeah