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AKA – Sim Dope Lyrics
AKA
Hands in the air if you been broke I see millionaires making bread, that’s the end goal Private jet Benzo, can’t see through the window So if I die I pray to God he bring me back as Sim Dope Sim Dope, 911 rim spokes Back when it was college I would hook him up the crib notes Teachers say he got a problem dealing with the tempo But you ain’t even fucking with his gym clothes Don’t see the roof, that’s German auto J.C Le Roux, 1000 bottles I see the truth, this the land of promise Call me the proof, I’m just being honest Hands in the air if you been broke I see millionaires making bread, that’s the end goal Private jet Benzo, can’t see through the window So if I die I pray to God he bring me back as Sim Dope 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 out of steam Reputation was damaged but never ran out of dreams That’s why I talk in my sleep Fortunately my esteem is awkward for people who awfully talkative in the street Especially if all that talking is cheap I got the recipe making peace with my enemies, my conscious is clean Don’t see the roof, that’s German auto J.C Le Roux, 1000 bottles I see the truth, this the land of promise Call me the proof, I’m just being honest Hands in the air if you been broke I see millionaires making bread, that’s the end goal Private jet Benzo, can’t see through the window So if I die I pray to God they bring me back as Sim Dope Yeah, I’m in this bitch with Mandela They pull my name out the envelope, you should f*ck 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, uh Drop top for the summer time Proposing this toast focused on goals like I’m number 9 Every one of these flows my foes gon’ analyze Eyes closed while I fantasize Nice clothes and my jewelry ice cold like Savannah Dry Power moves being strategized So if I die I’m leaving behind some real dough Or bring me back as Sim Dope, there’s still hope Hands in the air if you been broke I see millionaires making bread, that’s the end goal Private jet Benzo, can’t see through the window So if I die I pray to God he bring me back as Sim Dope