Lyrics Hold On - Trademark , Curren$y , Young Roddy

A yard for my dogs, a crib for my main bitch
I've been a man and I am still stainless
Haters caught vapor, inhaling the anguish
Kill these beats, humane fashion, painless
Cellphone my bids to auctions, cop paintings
Gotta have 'em more than Caine-Loc needed them Daytons
Jets X Nes Phips, crack lacerations
Dope cuts, motherfucker catch up
The girl eyes wandering she wan' know if that's us
Heard about that Spitta stroke and she wan' be next up
Homie mad talking about boy when I catch up
Shit bound to get all messed up and that's so messed up
Let's go rest up, I be in the cut
Got a can of Ozium in the truck
Fresh cut, word to Gucci, man photo shoot
Spitta in your city homie, send them hoes through
Yeah, hold on, let me find something to roll up on
Baby girl hold on, let me find something to roll up on
Car in the driveway don't mean I'm home
One not in front the house don't mean I'm gone
Start a business, mind ya own
And I stayed on my job when them niggas got lazy
And look how I changed them hood hoes to ladies
And look how I turned them hoopties to Mercedes
And I admit, to quit shooting ball was kinda crazy
But I was too focused on getting bread, pay me
Now they telling all of those DJ's to play me
Mama sat me down and told me all about the 80s
My favorite color was green, like money, since a baby
The niggas turn flaky, bitches turn shady
But no more gray days, I waved goodbye to Macy
Purple haze give me lazy eyes like McGrady
And that's on everything that 31st raised me
And that's on everything, got Adidas in all flavors
Practice make perfect, perfect make paper
Paper take patience, and I'm still waiting
So it's fuck you pay me, I've been ranned out of favors
Yeah, hold on, let me find something to roll up on
Baby girl hold on, let me find something to roll up on
Car in the driveway don't mean I'm home
One not in front the house don't mean I'm gone
Start a business, mind ya own
I'm just playing my position, posted like a center
Money on my mind, the bank account getting thicker
Blowing out of pounds, cases of the liquor
Surrounded by these bitches, I'm far from fictitious
Niggas claim they G, but they starting to look suspicious
Hating on the planes every time my name gets mentioned
I don't pay 'em no attention, I keep on twisting up
This purp is so sticky, it's getting stuck to my fingers
Jet set, we here, hitting the game from all angles
Got it in a chokehold, it's more like a strangle
Say I'm one of the best and I ain't never dropped a single
My flow on point, you can tell from the lingo
Christmas sack of trees, yeah I'm smoking Kris Kringle
Blue cheese, sour deez and the kush tastes mango
Trade keep it real, I ain't nowhere near lame-o
The plane's on the way, clear the runway and the lanes, ho
Yeah, hold on, let me find something to roll up on
Baby girl hold on, let me find something to roll up on
Car in the driveway don't mean I'm home
One not in front the house don't mean I'm gone
Start a business, mind ya own