AKA Composure Lyrics Are Out

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[Intro:]

One, two, one, two

[Verse 1: AKA]

Why you gassing dawg?

Why you comin’ to my table without asking dawg?

I know you hate me with a passion, I ain’t mad at y’all

I know you fuck with every classic in my catalog

And it go worth your magazine team think it’s LootLove

Cashtime with the Sheen Team, push dust

I don’t need a green screen when I pull stunts

Cause when you the real thing nigga’s get touched

And it’s Super unlocked, unlocked

I don’t give a fuck about your number one spot

Corporate’s sleeping on me need to set alarm clocks

Word to all my Naija homies getting telecom guap

In the billboards

That’s the shit that I kill for

Big dreams since I was a lil’ boy

I’m stressed

Middle finger to the press

Tried to give a fuck but I ain’t got a fuck left

I’m blessed

Let me ball like the Ballon d’Or

Forbes if you ever fall it’s a cannonball

Miss me with the bullshit like El Matador

I just hope you’re that involved when the camera off

Bang, bang, bang and it’s all about the moola

Big shout out to Sbuda, smoking Buddha in Abuja

Tunnel vision got me thinking future like computers

20 bitches swimming in the pool like barracuda, oh

Maybe I should spit something we can build with

I think we all need change who got the till slip?

It’s way beyond Drake and Meek Mill shit

Fuck a fiance, I got a lil’ kid

Even Ricky called me the other day

Stuck in the middle, it’s sad that we can’t collaborate

Tried to be civil until I saw your Twitter page

But I was out in Europe doing bigger things

See when it rains it pours

Understand with me when it’s war, it’s war

Thinking back you wasn’t even national yet

Matter fact, I used to be a fan of your shit

Young King, I should’ve took you under my wing

Instead I let you under my skin

I know coming up is a wonderful thing

But even I get uncomfortable when they call me the King

I know you play like you humble but we just one and the same

You tryna stay out of trouble and I’m just stuck in my lane

I hope the pressure don’t make me buckle, so much in my plate

Appetite for destruction this shit is like a buffet, hey, hey, hey

[Hook]

Hold it now, hold it now, hold it now

This ain’t your moment we own it now

You feelin’ some type of way

They gon’ ask me what this song about

Composure, composure

Composure, composure

Hmmm know yourself

I’m from the future, let’s take it back to the music

Cause I can’t control myself

[Verse 2: AKA]

My nigga’s on the road fucking crazy bitches

I be on my phone looking through my baby pictures

That’s what the fuck you call a juxtaposition

Had enough of these clubs but they don’t wanna miss it

All the bae’s blow me kisses

Drinkin’ champagne just to piss it

Nigga’s been saying all my shit authentic

Every Trinidad James get your fifteen minutes

Heard your new release, put that shit on fast-forward

Captain of my team, this a contact sport

This is combat, need a ball sack for it

This a marathon track, all the boys on ‘roids

Time to hit the road, pull your money up

Went gold but you niggas did it funny style

KO didn’t even try to floss with it

Saying oh, when you with it like a boss nigga

All this talk about God, I’mma show you hell

Bring it to your face like L’Oriel

My niggas in position when they ring the bell

They gonna get your ponytail like the Holy grail

That’s the problem with you new school cats

Took your old style from Malumkoolkat

I got my hands in the dirt

Such a pity that you can’t dance on the verse

[Hook]

[Verse 3]

I’m the reason niggas had the saga on repeat

Now you wanna charge me eighty thousand for a beat?

Load it up on data file, put it on wax

Streets on smash but your video trash

Lately I been going through some changes

Tryna figure out where I let my momma down

Cause the mother of my child is an angel

Do I blame it on myself or this fame shit?

Busy putting in the hours, final touches to the album

When I should have bought you flowers and the bracelet

Now we gotta make different living arrangements

All the family gonna see this shit in the papers

My father telling me, “don’t make the same mistakes”

Coming home late and the plate’s in the microwave

Now you got your very own baby face

We were so in love back in ’88, anyway

I don’t give a fuck what you say to me

All you bitches in the club look the same to me

I’mma need a double cup like a major league

Why you tryna front like you ain’t afraid of me?

Super mega touch down every city you go

Heard you moving up now in the city of gold

When I go to Maftown, I’mma sit on the throne

Tryna fill up the dome, ’bout to fill up your home, oh

[Hook]

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