Samson

Big beard, big box
 Never thought it turn into a Maybach
 It's a cold world, we all know the answer
 Gold on my neck, call me Samson
 Money, money, money every day that my beard grows
 Rap prince behind dark tints
 Americana paisley prints, the cities Clark Kent
 S on my chest, C on my fitted
 G's on my denim, John Lennon shades
 Styrofoam filled with lemonade
 Surf and turf dinner plate
 Came from a bitter place, now I'm on rich estates
 Seven thousand acre escape
 Jackson wool jacket cape
 Gold drape off my collar
 Beard longer than Samson's
 Hand strutin' with the Delilah
 Went from broke to a baller
 Spokes on the Impala, young Sinatra
 BCG rat pack, Visvim backpack filled with dollars
 Made money from being honest and these fake niggas hate it
 That a real nigga made it, off of no favors
 Now I'm in that farm house, far out, with no neighbors
 Got more haters than money problems
 Cause every day my beard grows, the money follows
 Long beard, don't care, let the money pile up
 The child of the sun, so I shine like one
 Intelligent rap nigga, so I rhyme like one
 Never clung to dumb niggas, I never minded them
 Always plain Jane'd my wrist, I never diamonded them
 But I always take risks, that's how my life begun
 One mother, one sister, without a bite or crumb
 That's why I write on this paper and give my life to them
 And stack all this paper like I'm recycling
 Why I attract all these haters, I'm just a righteous man
 Maybe cause they MC Lyte, paper thin
 But I give 'em the Stevie J rap face or the paper grin
 Won't let these niggas stop my hair growth on my chinny chin
 Money long like Kevin Durant
 F you niggas who said I can't
 Hold up, f you niggas again
 That's just how I'm feeling man
 Straight up, I just don't be caring, this cold world we in
 So I'mma get this paper until the very end