Tell The Vision Songtext

von Pop Smoke, Kanye West, Pusha T

Tripping
Wildin′ on television
You could
Still see a nigga tell the vision
Pimpin', boy, these boys, pimpin′
Different
These boys, boys
Pop was here last week
He was talking about Brooklyn and the place Brooklyn was at
How they were really like, thriving like right now
He was, you know
He was tryna, 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
Um, it's just tragic
Twenty years old, rest in peace
God bless Pop Smoke

Look, nigga, we made it (Grrr, woo, bah)
Nigga, we made it, we made it (Woo)
Nigga, we made it (Woo)
Thank God that I made it (Grrr, bah)
Nigga, we made it, we made it (Woo)
Look, momma, I made it (Grrt)

Look, I remember the days, same fit for a week straight
I used to eat 50 Cent cake, now, it′s Philippe′s
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
Now, it′s Philippe's
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 fifty 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
Dread had the strap all summer in the floss movin' reckless
Please do not play wit′ me, nigga, I keep a K wit' me

Look, nigga, we made it (Grrr, woo, bah)
Nigga, we made it, we made it (Woo)
Nigga, we made it (Woo)
Thank God that I made it (Grrr, bah)
Nigga, we made it, we made it (Woo)
Look, momma, I made it (Grrt)
Nigga, we made it

Huh?
We come from the trenches, nigga
Trap, trap, same fit for a week straight (Grr)
You know what I′m sayin'?
50 Cent cake, now, we eatin′ Philippe's steak

Look, 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, 812, two-door
Baby Rover, Benz, Coupe, bitch, you gotta choose yours
How can I not? Woo, how can I not?
When a brick is thirty-six, 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

Look, nigga, we made it (Grrr, woo, bah)
Nigga, we made it, we made it (Woo)
Nigga, we made it (Woo)
Thank God that I made it (Grrr, bah)
Nigga, we made it, we made it (Woo)
Look, momma, I made it (Grrt)