I hate when people say they feel me man, I hate that shit. It'll be a long time before y'all feel me, if ever
You won’t feel me until everybody Say they love you, but it’s not love And your suit is oxblood And the girl you fucking hates you And your friends faded off shots of What you ordered Then forget about the game that you on top of Your famous girlfriend ass keep getting Thicker than the plot does And when you forget her, that's when she pop up And you got a drop but you ride around with the top up Or get three SUVs for niggas dressed like refugees And deal with the questions About all your excessive needs And you do dinners at French Laundry in Napa Valley Scallops and glasses of Dolce That shit right up your alley You see a girl and you ask about her Bitches smiling at you, it must be happy hour They put the cloth across your lap soon as you sat down It’s feeling like you own every place you choose to be at now Walking through airport security with your hat down Instead of getting a pat down, they just keep on Saying that they feel you, nigga
Yeah, It's been too long Been way too long
[Chorus] I've been faded too long I've been faded too long I've been faded too long Why won't it start? The ride Why won't it start? The ride
You won't feel me 'til you want it so bad you tell yourself you're in it And tell the world around you that your paper work is finished And steal your mothers debit cards so you maintain an image And ride around in overpriced rental cars that ain't tinted You need a minute, you got it You know its real when your latest nights are your greatest nights The sun is up when you get home, that's just a way of life Apartment fifteen o three, some couches and paintings When you record with two others that want the same things Yeah, it start to feel better than home feels And so you up there every night you swear you getting close That champagne money was for gas and phone bills But shit you bout to spend it on what matters most You drop a couple songs and hopes that you can beat a nigga And come out every night to let the city see the nigga Telling stories that nobody relate to And even though they hate you they just keep on telling you they feel ya nigga
I haven't been inside terminal one and three in so long I'm driving right up to it now, make sure you got your coat on That runway can be cold especially after summers rolled on And all you knew is alcohol and city lights and slow songs For four months out the year, it's got you asking what's good at home What's good at home? The same hoes are still at it, I shoulda known My young niggas poppin' M's and sippin' dirty jones Problem children that all be reppin' Octobers Own Brand new girl, and she still growing Brand new titties, stitches still showing Yeah and she just praying that it heals good I'm bout to fuck and I'm just praying that it feels good I really don't know much but shit I know a secret They say more money more problems, my nigga don't believe it I mean sure there's some bills and taxes I'm still evading But I blew six million on my self and I feel amazing Young money maker, season ticket holder Season switching over I come through them bitches still scorching as if I didn't notice You niggas gettin' older, I see no threat in Yoda I'm out here messing over the lives of these niggas That couldn't fuck with my freshman flow Look at that fucking chip on your nephews shoulder My sophomore I was all for it, they all saw it My Junior and senior will only get meaner Take care nigga
I'm still faded, faded, faded, faded (the ride) Why won't it start the ride? Why won't it start the ride? Why won't it start ooh the ride?