Sim Dope Lyrics

Sim Dope Lyrics by AKA

Hands in the air if you've been broke
I seen millionaires making bread
That's the end goal, Private jet, benz-o
Can't see through the window
So if I die I pray to God he bring me back as Sim Dope.

Sim Dope 9/11 rim spokes
Back when it was college I woulda came up with crib notes
Teacher say he got a problem dealing with the tempo
But you aint even fucking with his gym clothes.

Don't see the roof, that's German auto
JC le Roux, one thousand bottles
I see the truth, this the land of promise
Call me the proof, I'm just being honest.

Sometimes I look at my mother I think of what could've been
Imagine building a palace that's only fit for a queen
My daddy climbed up the ladder until he ran outta steam
Reputation was damaged but never ran outta dreams
That's why I talk in my sleep
Fortunately my esteem is awkward for people
Who're awfully talkative in the streets
Especially if all the talking is cheap
I got the recipe, making peace with my enemies
my conscious is clean.

I'm in this bitch with Mandela
They pull my name out the envelope
You should fuck with the winners
You got some buzz from your single
But that's just luck for beginners
I'm coming back in another life just to stunt on your children, aah!
Drop top for the summer time
Proposing this toast
Focused on goals like I'm number 9
Everyone of these flows my foes gon' analyse
Eyes closed while I fantasize
Nice clothes on my jewellery
Ice cold like Savanna Dry
Power moves being strategised
So if I die
I'm leaving behind some real doe
Or bring me back as Sim Dope
Still hope

Hands in the air if you've been broke
I seen millionaires making bread
Thats the end goal, Private jet, benz-o
Can't see through the window
So if I die I pray to God he bring me back as Sim Dope.