It may seem like our fire Has been a little burnt out we're tired We only need to stay close In time, sparks will fly (And we fly too, and we, and we And we fly too) Baby you deserve the whole enchilada Gucci and Prada Toast to the days when I didn't

Niggas pistol popping like it's nineteen ninety nine I was nine maybe ten, then again never mind Press rewind, back in time before rappers dropping dimes Trap or die, choppin' pies with cliche's all in they rhymes That was Gucci, Prada and anything