Letra de Captain
Mic check
1-2
Aight cool, sound good to me
I hear the whispers, like "what's goin' on? He been missin"
He used to run the show it's been ???
I remember the mission he was on it was different
He was sick
Now my nigga done gone in remission
That's what y'all think y'all think I lost my step?
Was on the run but had to stop and never caught my breath
I'm drenched, I'm on the bench with like 4 more reps
In other words I'll got shit left to get off my chest
Comin' up you heard the hunger in me
Tough as can be
You couldn't sound cloudy nigga nothin' was free
If I ain't get a record deal and I was stuck in the P's wit D's
Tryna spot if I had a wonderful stream of income
My outcome is somethin' to see
I was in a Jeep, sunk in the seat, beats bumpin'
Tryna out rap Nassir and keep up wit Jay-Z
Crumblin' 16's I was only 16!
Fast foward, niggas out here mumblin' B
Why be smart when niggas on the charts dumber than me?
A bunch of bums wit more money than me
So stayin' complex, yeah that's an everyday struggle for me
I'm from when everybody wanted 5 Mics
And ?? gave you unsigned hype if you rhymed right
A stretch armstrong spin was a highlight
And all the mixtapes was 2 for 5 like Tre's and that fire white
I understand why someone could 'tire mics
Pack up turn tables the tables turn wild right? Huh
But me I'm in it fully
It's like that one bitch I just can't stop fuckin' man these beats do something to me
I post up on the throne, don't end up on a highlight poster
'Cause you grown, who you "Post" to be? Malone?
I deliever like Post Offices, pre Post Malones
You dick rider if you saw what I don't post on my phone
A lines a great line, baby New Yorks own
It's like I play for Jim Boeheim, boy stay in that zone
This my house, trespassin' I don't condone
Let me be, don't be them 2 niggas from Home Alone
And get iron in your face tryna roam where you don't belong
Brooklyn, Staten, Queens, Manhattan the Bronx I stomps through all of that what happened
New York I'm so proud to be your Captain
Enjoy the rappin'
1-2
Aight cool, sound good to me
I hear the whispers, like "what's goin' on? He been missin"
He used to run the show it's been ???
I remember the mission he was on it was different
He was sick
Now my nigga done gone in remission
That's what y'all think y'all think I lost my step?
Was on the run but had to stop and never caught my breath
I'm drenched, I'm on the bench with like 4 more reps
In other words I'll got shit left to get off my chest
Comin' up you heard the hunger in me
Tough as can be
You couldn't sound cloudy nigga nothin' was free
If I ain't get a record deal and I was stuck in the P's wit D's
Tryna spot if I had a wonderful stream of income
My outcome is somethin' to see
I was in a Jeep, sunk in the seat, beats bumpin'
Tryna out rap Nassir and keep up wit Jay-Z
Crumblin' 16's I was only 16!
Fast foward, niggas out here mumblin' B
Why be smart when niggas on the charts dumber than me?
A bunch of bums wit more money than me
So stayin' complex, yeah that's an everyday struggle for me
I'm from when everybody wanted 5 Mics
And ?? gave you unsigned hype if you rhymed right
A stretch armstrong spin was a highlight
And all the mixtapes was 2 for 5 like Tre's and that fire white
I understand why someone could 'tire mics
Pack up turn tables the tables turn wild right? Huh
But me I'm in it fully
It's like that one bitch I just can't stop fuckin' man these beats do something to me
I post up on the throne, don't end up on a highlight poster
'Cause you grown, who you "Post" to be? Malone?
I deliever like Post Offices, pre Post Malones
You dick rider if you saw what I don't post on my phone
A lines a great line, baby New Yorks own
It's like I play for Jim Boeheim, boy stay in that zone
This my house, trespassin' I don't condone
Let me be, don't be them 2 niggas from Home Alone
And get iron in your face tryna roam where you don't belong
Brooklyn, Staten, Queens, Manhattan the Bronx I stomps through all of that what happened
New York I'm so proud to be your Captain
Enjoy the rappin'
