"Made It" lyrics

They say imitation is the highest form of flattery (Flattery, flatter)
But some people get mad, get mad, 'cause they can't do it better than me

Yo yo, listen
Every time I come through I'ma kill the game
Y'all think I'm tryna steal your lane
Y'all just mad, I'm a real y'all lame
I will not cave, and y'all still in chains

Y'all muzzled, I speak truth and y'all puzzled
Y'all just purgin' the flock and I ruffle
Do it for the cause, I don't care about the duffle
I hussle, I don't need permission, I'm trouble (Heh)

And I don't need a bunch of little people in my corner
Bunch of people on my team (people on my team)
He ain't ever gonna tell me what to say
I'm gonna rap about it you know what I mean
(You know what I mean, what I mean)

You can have your [?]
Y'all stay mad, I'ma stay up in the genre
Y'all stay cap, I'ma spray like [?]
Y'all are with the coke y'all stay with [?]

And I'ma pour one out
This one for betas and people that pout
This one for haters and people that doubt
I'ma get another for the fakers in the crowd

Man, forget about hip-hop culture
Y'all are just lost, with the [?]
I keep it clean, y'all vulgar
I point you to God, but now I am the vulture?

I've been picking up classics in the laboratory (Laboratory, -tory)
And if you ask who gets the credit, I'm giving God the glory (God the glory)

(Who made it?)
Music, he made it
Writing, he made it
Culture, he made it
Look what God did

Music, he made it
Writing, he made it
Culture, he made it
Look what God did

Man
Look Tyson, you're so dang racist
You can't even rap that great, just face it
Haven't you heard of cultural appropriation?
You were just a guess in the game, you's the basics

I went to college, I got a degree
They told me I'm white so I need to appease
Now I bow to my friends and I plead on my knees
'Cause some people had slaves and they blame it on me

Heh, but I don't really care about your feelings
News flash I ain't ever had a slave, man
(Never had a slave, man)
But you don't really care about the truth
You just wanna point a finger at me, man
(At me, man)

You stealing the vibes
You speakin the truth and [?]
We call him a racist but he doesn't hide
It's like he gets louder and won't 'pologize
What's up with this guy?

I want him to bow to my skin
And feel sorry for me while I grin
I wanna expose him but I know he's chosen
And I know that he don't deliberately sin

I'd write him a check but don't think there's a price
We come at his neck but he won't give us [?]
We feel like a wreck we can't get him to slide
Don't hold your breath I'm connected to Christ, sorry

I've been picking up classics in the laboratory (Laboratory, -tory)
And if you ask who gets the credit, I'm giving God the glory (God the glory)

(Who made it?)
Music, he made it
Writing, he made it
Culture, he made it
Look what God did

Music, he made it
Writing, he made it
Culture, he made it
Look what God did

Music, he made it
Writing, he made it
Culture, he made it
Look what God did

Music, he made it
Writing, he made it
Culture, he made it
Look what God did

They say imitation is the highest form of flattery
But some people get mad, get mad
'Cause they can't do it better than me

I'm giving God the glory