LYRICS:

[Intro]
(I'm loving this generation)

[Hook]
(Y'all cats know we always play to win)
Said I'm always winning
(Y'all cats know we always play to win)

[Verse 1]
Feel me, grown man
Back off the road and in my own home, watching Homeland
And romancing with a mean girl, Lohan
Trying to deprogram, Detox, lace the Reeboks
Set a screen pop then shoot a three off
Then green out with deep thoughts, watching NBC Peacock
Grizz, we stop not, till we EGOT
Quote Jack Donaghy, pro Black Donnely
Punk Pope Francis with a dope rap homily, yo
I read some Facebook posts and I open TextEdit
Cause I don't blog or Twitter, yaa, I get-get it
And I kinda get Reddit but I don't really get credit
Not like respect, like actually, I don't really get credit
I don't got a credit card, good, no debts yet
At times I go to pay and they say "Yo, we don't accept debit"
Don't accept cash? Well, you make us have to get in debt
It makes me wanna talk Illuminati on my next record
Also rappings who go "I don't really get credit"
I don't know, I'm pretty sure I'm the best at it
Couple get close when they grind like Next
You know, baby when we're grinding, that's "Too Close" by Next
Check it, Shad's on that silly swag
Jeans got that T-Boz and chilly sag
Seven minute epic rap Iliads
Young black genius, some cats really mad
Even political when I boast now I Billy Bragg
So from punk rockers to gun cockers from dumb jocks to
Young doctors are all saying that I come proper
Like "I knew he had lyrics, but that was a fun concert"
Haters can hate, I'm unbothered, the bottom line is
I'm always winning

[Hook]

[Verse 2]
I said I'm always winning
Kind of rhymes that got the mommies grinning
Army print and vintage Tommy in my laundry spinning
Speaking of mommies, lot of people call me Pops
Because I'm always watching kids, trying to get it popping
With a couple little poppy hits and they might pop a bit
But look who's popping Cris in the post season, Popovich
Champagne Papi, but I started from the opposite of bottom
Still on top of it, my dominance is Duncan-esque
The rest is overhyped, these punks is under prepped
And soft as One Direction while I'm sharp enough to puncture flesh
One punch should get you stumbling like a drunken mess
Lungs compress, stuck in a stretcher until they run some test
Uncontestable, born to rest, sun is blessed
So I'mma bring the pressure, I'm even better in sudden death
Forever unimpressed, I'm clever, no wonder heads
Pirate this like discovering treasure in the sunken chest
Motherfunking fresh, the sound of thunder over rumbling jet
Coming from the west where the sun gets set
Not a Brit, but still a London rep
Like I'm double deck busses, watch me bust this like a hundred tecs
IQ measure by one question, who wanna mess
With brother S.K.? Say yes, and you the dumbest yet
Humble vet, still running with anyone that steps
'Til every tongue confesses that your boy belong among the best
Always winning

[Hook]