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Nav - Freshman List Lyrics

[Chorus]
I was made for this shit, rookie of the year
I wouldn't show up for the Freshman List
Your swag expired, you ain't fresh like this
Shit on all my haters, I'ma make 'em pissed
I was made for this shit, rookie of the year
I wouldn't show up for the Freshman List
Your swag expired, you ain't fresh like this
Shit on all my haters, I'ma make 'em pissed

[Verse 1]
Trade my Honda to a Bentley
Now these fuckboys wanna end me
Ammunition, I got plenty, I squeezed it 'til it’s empty
My haters, they resent me, never checkin' what they send me
Don't touch me, I ain't friendly, I'm drivin' foreigns, I ain't rentin'
Your career is stuck on pendin', the corner what I'm bendin'
You thinkin' 'bout lendin' my money, I ain't sendin'
You can't get a penny, you wanna see me fail because I'm ballin'
You a fake and we ain't got nothin' in common
You didn't pick up when you saw me callin'
So you wouldn't catch me if you saw me fallin'
Be careful who you shit on, they might make it, you never know
Don't try to come around me if you wasn't here before
You say you need some tickets, wanna see me at my show
I put my bitch in VIP, I put you on the floor
[Chorus]
I was made for this shit, rookie of the year
I wouldn't show up for the Freshman List
Your swag expired, you ain't fresh like this
Shit on all my haters, I'ma make 'em pissed
I was made for this shit, rookie of the year
I wouldn't show up for the Freshman List
Your swag expired, you ain't fresh like this
Shit on all my haters, I'ma make 'em pissed

[Verse 2]
I'm rollin' off a bean and I'm stoned
I just did a interview with Rollin' Stone
My teachers used to call my mama on the phone
I failed in all my classes, hated goin' home
Got, got a lot of problems that I handle on my own
Remember makin' beats and feelin' stuck inside my home
And now when I come home, I’m fuckin' every bitch I know
I just show my chain off to Lil Uzi on the phone
I'm feelin' in my zone, I took two 30's to the dome
I heard they pitch they shit up just so they can match my tone
I’m ballin', you can't stand it, how I keep you on your toes
No motion picture money, real ones in my video
When I'm in my city, I feel like I'm Rambo
My bro like a mechanic, always keep the hammer close
Do I believe in heaven? To be honest, I don’t know
But I believe in Ghosts and I believe in Lambos
[Chorus]
I was made for this shit, rookie of the year
I wouldn't show up for the Freshman List
Your swag expired, you ain't fresh like this
Shit on all my haters, I'ma make 'em pissed
I was made for this shit, rookie of the year
I wouldn't show up for the Freshman List
Your swag expired, you ain't fresh like this
Shit on all my haters, I'ma make 'em pissed