Back to Top

Rob Markman - Head High (feat. The Ichiban Don & Saint Pat Beatz) Lyrics



Rob Markman - Head High (feat. The Ichiban Don & Saint Pat Beatz) Lyrics
Official




I mean one day
Muthaf*cka came to me and said I gotta be humble
Have you ever read the f*ckin' definition of humble?
You see me, you see greatness, what the f*ck I got to be humble about?
You know?
You f*ckin with a Marksman
I heard that humbleness is weakness
Gather 'round, I don't know who need to hear this
They want us humble, deep down they really fear us
We been humble for minute, eatin' anything they feed us
I never had a bite, can't wait until the afterlife
I read the Passion Christ, this is what my passion like
A hustler, manic-like, far from the panic type
Tryna get the package right, goin' hand to hand at night
Food on the table, but the babies fed by candle light
I mean salmon's nice, tonight it's only spam and rice
Gotta keep the family tight just in case the famine strike
My hunger unexplainable, I gotta BIG appetite
They say the meek shall inherit
Sorry father, that shit ain't in my spirit
I'm made in ya image and they placed you in a prison
But I'll never let 'em trap me in my humble beginnings
Aye aye aye stand up, chest out, head high
Any nigga take me for sweet, bunch of dead guys
Get out my way little nigga, lemme shine, lemme grind
God bless every nigga on their way up
Shoot, this ain't no lay-up
No
Pay dues, take ya pay cuts
Boy it's time to get this muthafukin' paper
I screamed Write to Dream, everybody told me dream on
Most days had nobody else to lean on
Didn't have no blueprint, drew the shit freeform
Didn't have no 'Ye, or no Bink to put no beats on
No Just, just the Ichiban D-Don
He said Rob, I got some shit you need to breathe on
Linked me up with Pat, that young brother a phenom
I caught a flight, first night we did three songs
This all manifested, shit I've been battle-tested
F*ck the opps been duckin' shots since my adolescence
Bullets no names, I feel this one had a message
Shots close range, thank God that I had a second
Never touched me, I'm what you would consider lucky
Fate's two-faced, 50/50, shit is pretty ugly
They screaming f*ck me huh? It could get pretty touchy
That's when you breath and you hit em like "this shits above me"
Aye aye aye stand up, chest out, head high
Any nigga take me for sweet, bunch of dead guys
Get out my way little nigga, lemme shine, lemme grind
God bless every nigga on their way up
Shoot, this ain't no lay-up
No
Pay dues, take ya pay cuts
Boy it's time to get this muthafukin' paper
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.


We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.


English

I mean one day
Muthaf*cka came to me and said I gotta be humble
Have you ever read the f*ckin' definition of humble?
You see me, you see greatness, what the f*ck I got to be humble about?
You know?
You f*ckin with a Marksman
I heard that humbleness is weakness
Gather 'round, I don't know who need to hear this
They want us humble, deep down they really fear us
We been humble for minute, eatin' anything they feed us
I never had a bite, can't wait until the afterlife
I read the Passion Christ, this is what my passion like
A hustler, manic-like, far from the panic type
Tryna get the package right, goin' hand to hand at night
Food on the table, but the babies fed by candle light
I mean salmon's nice, tonight it's only spam and rice
Gotta keep the family tight just in case the famine strike
My hunger unexplainable, I gotta BIG appetite
They say the meek shall inherit
Sorry father, that shit ain't in my spirit
I'm made in ya image and they placed you in a prison
But I'll never let 'em trap me in my humble beginnings
Aye aye aye stand up, chest out, head high
Any nigga take me for sweet, bunch of dead guys
Get out my way little nigga, lemme shine, lemme grind
God bless every nigga on their way up
Shoot, this ain't no lay-up
No
Pay dues, take ya pay cuts
Boy it's time to get this muthafukin' paper
I screamed Write to Dream, everybody told me dream on
Most days had nobody else to lean on
Didn't have no blueprint, drew the shit freeform
Didn't have no 'Ye, or no Bink to put no beats on
No Just, just the Ichiban D-Don
He said Rob, I got some shit you need to breathe on
Linked me up with Pat, that young brother a phenom
I caught a flight, first night we did three songs
This all manifested, shit I've been battle-tested
F*ck the opps been duckin' shots since my adolescence
Bullets no names, I feel this one had a message
Shots close range, thank God that I had a second
Never touched me, I'm what you would consider lucky
Fate's two-faced, 50/50, shit is pretty ugly
They screaming f*ck me huh? It could get pretty touchy
That's when you breath and you hit em like "this shits above me"
Aye aye aye stand up, chest out, head high
Any nigga take me for sweet, bunch of dead guys
Get out my way little nigga, lemme shine, lemme grind
God bless every nigga on their way up
Shoot, this ain't no lay-up
No
Pay dues, take ya pay cuts
Boy it's time to get this muthafukin' paper
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Rob Markman, William Brown
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

Back to: Rob Markman



Rob Markman - Head High (feat. The Ichiban Don & Saint Pat Beatz) Video
(Show video at the top of the page)

Tags:
No tags yet