J.I.D - Ambassel

Lyrics

(Christo)
Uh, look, I played the game, I missed the shot
I had the answer, then forgot
I knew one day my **** would pop
Finesse phenomenon, man, I
Flex an awful lot and cut the check
Man, I monopolize the set
But I been out and takin' hits like I can die like any sec

Born in the day, the dawn of the dead
I don't see nothing but red
They gather the blankets, the milk, and the bread
I come from the east and I'm traveling west
Got a machete, I chop and I chop
At the neck of the serpent, determine the plot and the threats
It ain't no stopping the run
Poppin', son of God droppin' anybody who next
I want a mansion, I want a million advances, I'm gonna stay in Atlanta
Most of 'em move to LA and throw all of they money away and move back with they parents
I see the canvas
I got the brush in my hand, the colors are mixing again
Grabbing a stick with my hand
I drop my guts, the world is us, so what?

Who wanna touch? Who wanna rough me up?
Nobody, my hitters ready to bust
Kick in the door and I come out the cut
What? Yeah
Who wanna touch? Who wanna rough me up?
Nobody, my hitters ready to bust
Do what I do and I say what I want, woah

Yeah, mama, your kid in a magazine, kid in a magazine
I had a stack in my jacket at Grammy week, see the audacity
I was a bad kid, bad city, you see the duality
Who tryna battle me? Huh
Hitters is after me, cannot be that many, who wanna rough me up?
Fatality, really it's up, it's stuck
Undoubtably, baby gon' touch the bucks
My salary double your baby daddy, maybe triple, I'm trouble
I get the tackle and the pick and I hustle
I had to have it, had to get in the huddle
In the gravel and rubble
Got me a sack and I'm tryna be subtle
We just actin' like a dog with a muzzle
See the back-up, put him back in a puddle
We attackin', better stand back and watch and run
Shotgun come with the option
Send big blitz, nobody blockin'
Big win, that's a ring and a watch
Strong end when he come in the slot
Tryna bend the corner, your limbs gettin' ****
That's your partner, then your twin gettin' ****
All you wanna do is talk, I don't even talk
Thought I heard somebody talkin'
I could pull up with the Chewbacca, the—
This ****, bangin' my chest and my head on the locker
Feeling like Waka Flocka Flame, I put the opposition out the game
I'm out the pocket, but I rock with the gang
Animosity reside inside of me, so I'm like a product of power and pain

Who wanna touch? Who wanna rough me up?
Nobody, my hitters ready to bust
Kick in the door and I come out the cut
What? Yeah
Who wanna touch? Who wanna rough me up?
Nobody, my hitters ready to bust
Kick in the door and I come out the cut, woah (Okay)