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21 Savage - a lot

a lot
21 Savage
04:49
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Song lyrics

[Sample:]
I love you
For so many reasons,
I do.

[Intro: 21 Savage]
Turn my headphone down a little bit, yeah!
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah yeah!
Yeah, yeah, ah, ah, whoa, whoa, whoa, yeah!

[Pre-Chorus: 21 Savage]
How much money you got? (Straight up)
How much money you got? (Straight up)
How much money you got? (Straight up)
How much money you got? (A lot)

[Chorus: 21 Savage]
How much money you got? (A lot)
How many problems you got? (A lot)
How many people done doubted you? (A lot)
Left you out to rot? (A lot)
How many pray that you flop? (A lot)
How many lawyers you got? (A lot)
How many times you got shot? (A lot)
How many niggas you shot? (A lot)
How many times did you ride? (A lot)
How many niggas done died? (A lot)
How many times did you cheat? (A lot)
How many times did you lie? (A lot)
How many times did she leave? (A lot)
How many times did she cry? (A lot)
How many chances she done gave you
Fuck around with these thots? (A lot)

[Verse 1: 21 Savage]
Every day that I'm alive, I'ma ride with the stick,
I'd rather be broke in jail than be dead and rich,
Told my brothers, take my breath if I turn to a snitch,
But I'm 21 4L, ain't no way I'ma switch.

Break it down, I break it down!
I break it down, I break it down!
I break it down, I break it down!
I break it down, I break it down!

[Verse 2: 21 Savage]
Penitentiary chances just to make a couple bucks,
My heart so cold I could put it in my cup,
Gang vs. the world, me and my dawg, it with us,
Then you went and wrote a statement, and that really fucked me up.
My brother lost his life and it turned me to a beast,
My brother got life and it turned me to the streets,
I been through the storm and it turned me to a G,
But the other side was sunny, I get paid to rap on beats.

[Chorus: 21 Savage]
How much money you got? (A lot)
How many problems you got? (A lot)
How many people done doubted you? (A lot)
Left you out to rot? (A lot)
How many pray that you flop? (A lot)
How many lawyers you got? (A lot)
How many times you got shot? (A lot)
How many niggas you shot? (A lot)
How many times did you ride? (A lot)
How many niggas done died? (A lot)
How many times did you cheat? (A lot)
How many times did you lie? (A lot)
How many times did she leave? (A lot)
How many times did she cry? (A lot)
How many chances she done gave you
Fuck around with these thots? (A lot)

Break it on down, I break it on down!
I break it on down, I break it on down!

[Interlude: J. Cole]
Yeah!
I just came from the A, I drove back home, six hour drive, six and a half.
Before I left I stopped by to see my nigga 21 in the studio.
Yeah, two of his kids with him right in the studio, that's when I knew
You a stand-up nigga, I love seein' shit like that.

[Verse 3: J. Cole]
Question:
How many fakin' they streams? (A lot)
Gettin' they plays from machines, (A lot)
I can see behind the smoke and mirrors,
Niggas ain't really big as they seem. (Hmm)
I never say anything, (Nah) everybody got they thing, (True)
Some niggas make millions, other niggas make memes. (Hmm)
I'm on a money routine,
I don't want smoke, I want cream,
I don't want no more comparisons,
This is a marathon and I'm aware
I been playin' it back from a lack of promotions,
I was never one for the braggin' and boastin',
I guess I was hopin' the music would speak for itself, but the people want everything else,
Okay, no problem, I'll show up on everyone album,
You know what the outcome will be,
I'm battin' a thousand,
It's got to the point that these rappers don't even like rappin' with me.
Fuck it, 'cause my nigga 21 Savage just hit me,
And told me he sent me a spot on a new record he got,
He call it "a lot," I open my book and I jot.
Pray for Tekashi, they want him to rot,
I picture him inside a cell on a cot
'Flectin' on how he made it to the top,
Wonderin' if it was worth it or not.
I pray for Markelle 'cause they fucked up his shot,
Just want you to know that you got it, my nigga,
Though I never met you, I know that you special,
And that the Lord blessed you, don't doubt it, my nigga.
Dennis Smith Jr., stay solid, my nigga,
I'm on a tangent, not how I planned it,
I had some fans that hopped and abandoned ship
When they thought that I wasn't gone pan out, I got a plan,
They say that success is the greatest revenge, tell all your friends,
Cole on a mission, cementin' the spot as the greatest who did it
Before it all ends, nigga.

[Chorus: 21 Savage]
How much money you got? (A lot)
How many problems you got? (A lot)
How many people done doubted you? (A lot)
Left you out to rot? (A lot)
How many pray that you flop? (A lot)
How many lawyers you got? (A lot)
How many times you got shot? (A lot)
How many niggas you shot? (A lot)
How many times did you ride? (A lot)
How many niggas done died? (A lot)
How many times did you cheat? (A lot)
How many times did you lie? (A lot)
How many times did she leave? (A lot)
How many times did she cry? (A lot)
How many chances she done gave you?
Fuck around with these thots (A lot)

[Outro:]
Break it on down, I break it on down!
I break it on down, I break it on down!
I break it down, I break it down!
I break it down, I break it down!
I break it on down, I break it down!
I break it down, I break it down!
I break it down, I break it down!
I break it down, I break it down, I br–

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