Future Freshmen - Last Call lyrics

rate me

feat. Rashid Hadee & Visual

Sun rises through an open champagne glass

Feel, took a brim, watched that ass drop

4 to 5 G in the game, spend the cash spot, ask not

Doing what these niggas can’t, ask God, ask fuck

All these haters here gonna make a year

Riding slow and turning wheels, sipping lean and burning bills

This goes out to Vernon Hills, 59th and Midway Fields

Shaw town niggas, steal hoe, steal

What up dealer, way too ill, Illinois be bumping hills

Test these niggas off with smiles

Looking like they drew each out, serving on the interstate

Chilling like we serving pounds, bet you looking nervous now

Future freshman, future sound, heavy heads, future crowns

This is what we say though

This is not a game, joe

Hate is why we lay low

Listen, I’m so vicious, these cold bridges

Will have you so frigid with no business

You kill your spirit and you got no digits

‘Cause you roll with lame bitches that ain’t gifted

I stay lifted, I move and I aim different

I hate critics, they ain’t lived it, I paint vivid

I ain’t image, this ain’t scripted, I stay in it

These fakes winded, gasping with no passion

These cromagnons will stay backwards

I keep it moving till my soul collapses

You can’t catch me, I’m a bullet from God’s gun, I’m flying fast

Stand here, look around, hope I’m dying last

I just laugh when I hear their lying ass

My whole circle, 360 with the craft

This is my story from my soul to my head

Here I’m giving you these lessons, hope you follow that

Follow that, follow that

Follow that, follow that

Nobody said it would be easy but I take it easy

I’m thinking like I’m Stevie as I wonder about the music in my mind

Let it play, every day with the thrill I blaze

But never this thing like forever in dreams

Look at them tears in the delicate scenes

Lost souls with irrelevant means that never did leave

The life you might have only see on television

I could tell our vision better sees from where they living

But I’m still backseat, car full of bitches, they got liquor and they’re sisters

They hard to read like pyramids with hieroglyphics

No consequences, doing what we willing

Like riding raw, don’t have a difference, it’s all good till the wings flipping

Hate lows, no can’t go, a praying soul, no bank roll

But what the fuck was we made for?