Florida Boy Do Your Dance! - Pouya

I know I sell myself short, lookin' at the ceiling fan

Spin around again and again

This repetition got me stuck in a trance, big Glock in my pants

Florida boy, do your dance, yeah, I made me some bands

Yeah, I got me a Benz, yeah, I got me a chain

And I still feel the same, and I still feel the same

I put on for these rappers, I think I’m changing the game

But if they don’t feel the same, then fuck it, get in my lane

And see if you can get the crowd movin' for you the same

And see if you can get the crowd movin' for you the same, yuh

Is this it?

Is that all?

Got my back to the wall

As I’m lookin' around, anticipatin' my fall

Searchin' for answers but stuck with these questions

Is somebody tryna teach me a new lesson?

Is this it?

Is that all?

Is this it?

Is that all?

(Alright, let’s go, let’s go)

How long should I wait until I move on?

Back to the air mattress and the coupons

I realized it’ll never be enough for me

What do I gotta do to live comfortably?

I think I’d give it back if it was up to me

My mind’s not movin' like it’s supposed to be

These labels need to really back off of me

I really don’t care what they offer me

Okay, now you talkin' money, I guess you do speak my language

I don’t give a fuck who you is or who you hang with

Baby Bone, no, I never been the one to stay silent

Everybody, grab your guns, let’s start a riot

Are you so sick and tired of these men in your pockets

That never even left the office but promise to give you just what you wanted?

Oh no, now they got you stuck in a financial coffin

Now you gotta pay 'em back with every cent of your profit