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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
M Huncho
M Huncho
Vocals
James Edmunds
James Edmunds
Spoken Word
Mazza
Mazza
Programming
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
M Huncho
M Huncho
Songwriter
Rennel Walker-Arthur
Rennel Walker-Arthur
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Mazza
Mazza
Engineer
Sean D Engineer
Sean D Engineer
Mixing Engineer
Luke Caleb Honeywood
Luke Caleb Honeywood
Producer

Lyrics

The first of his name, the first of his kind Last of a dying breed Some people build a foundation He's here to build a legacy, the definition of what authentic is See, I thought for a long time, would there be someone special? Would there be someone that holds the world in the palm of their hands? Well, I guess there is No matter how many times they try to bury him He will rise through the dirt Because theirs only one, and there will always be one Huncholini the first When I go through shit, I grow through shit Ready for the apocalypse I'm bakin' & waitin' for dough to stretch Every day I'm saving money Just randomly, while I be working I go Tourettes I wish I got more for less Sometimes it's better its less for more I just left, and I settled my scores Bankrolls, it's all in my drawers Open the roof while I'm smokin' a spliff It goes wherever I go, open the door and I'm coach and the reff' I just spent eight in the T If your up in the bando' you already know, what that is Tried university but, I just made it straight out from the streets Put a rest to the fuckin' degree Please don't go pass a degree Some people get used to the sea Some people get used to defeat I got defeated, I ran up some g's Huncholini just ran out receipts Fans asking "Why don't I release?" I grab the pack and I go an' release And theirs always a fee Cash, ruled everything round' me It was never about the cream Everything in the room is so green And I ain't droppin' on stage Nah I flip money I'm turning the page On the local gazette To see if my people were just fucking caught in the rave I need back all the love that I gave Every ounce of respect that I gained Was purely deserved on my name They can't put me in the mud now I name I just put four in a cup, sit and determine the place You're not in my league, we can't ever engage In conversation that's mentally strange My mother was burning some sage Keep 'em away, the devil and fakes The fakes and the devil put dark into pebs Please get outta' my way Cocaine yeah, I'll be here Can't be a bum and there is no pay I bought a gun call it Ray I be the nephew that's holding it, hay
Writer(s): Rennel Walker-arthur, Mohammed Hassan, Luke Honeywood Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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