HALL OF FAME Lyrics

I'm lookin' round, all I see is a bunch of mini-me's
My lil' boys

Yeah, livin' legend, I came up in the H-era like Scooter
Niggas can't fill my shoes up, I guess the work they servin' too cut
Steppa Hall of Fame, I leave the game, they hang my shoe up
How you hate my guts, but got your plug from sayin' you knew us?
That dissin' get your views up, but eventually it's gon' get you up
If your raps is real and you in the field, a jeweler, at least give you two hundred
I had paper before new hundreds, the pandemic and rap money
Don't shit on your hood when it's all good, it's gon' get back ugly

My third or fourth track, a Mexican stole it, I took it back from him
They ain't even get to strip it, three, four hours, like they rented it
I ain't no stealer, I'm a spinner, I ain't no driver, I'm a killer
Niggas fraudulent when I'm official, niggas Rodmans, I'm Val Kilmer
When in Robins and True Religions, I had power like I'm 50
I had powder like Mike Epps in How High and his assistant
On the street, niggas be demons, in the fed car with the Christians
I pray to Eric forgive Lil Barry, I don't know the issue, I hope they fix it
All I know is I ain't 'bout no snitches, I don't even need to know the specifics
I asked Bart Simpson what's wrong, he told me nothing, don't tell me different
Day he caught his charge, drove fifteen hours to see him, gave him a nickel
Ric said Boppa did a proffer, made me cry, I hope he didn't
Everybody on the case supposed to send their transcripts, no biggie
I just wanna know who wore that wire and stood on the stage with me
You ain't stupid, got a better chance playin' traffic than playin' with me
All my circle dead or in prison, closest thing I had to siblings
If you mad at me for wantin' to see black and white, I think you trippin'
I ain't never went against it, I'd never do it, never did it
Can't a dollar make me switch it, this shit unlimited like I print it
When my love had one of my sons, I cleaned the blicky
Forced the judge to dismiss it
I'm probably the first rapper platinum, lyrics and system fentanyl all in it
In loving memory, junkies died first few times cut my heroin with it

Yeah, livin' legend, I came up in the H-era like Scooter
Niggas can't fill my shoes up, I guess the work they servin' too cut
Steppa Hall of Fame, I leave the game, they hang my shoe up
How you hate my guts, but got your plug from sayin' you knew us?
That dissin' get your views up, but eventually it's gon' get you up
If your raps is real, you in the field, a jeweler, at least give you two hundred
I had paper before the new hundreds, the pandemic and rap money
Don't shit on your hood when it's all good, it's gon