Lyrics Injury Reserve – Chin Up (Outro)
Text:
Chin up
Put your head up
Get your chest out
Get your bread up
Put your head up
Get your chest out
Get your bread up (boom, boom)
Yo, chin up (boom, boom)
Put your head up (boom, boom)
Get your chest out (boom, boom)
Get your bread up (boom, boom)
Yo, chin up (boom, boom)
Put your head up (boom, boom)
Get your chest out (boom, boom)
Get your bread up (boom, boom)
Yo, first and foremost we gon’ be good my nigga
Shit, try and stop me, I wish you would my nigga
Shit, S on my chest, I gotta rescue a check
Get with this shit or get left, I think you should my nigga (yeah)
I said we’re sitting on a pot of gold, you kinda bold
You more like Pippen in a minor role
Regardless, keep your chin up and your chest out
Take it day by day, get your bread, figure the rest out
I remember way back when, when we were hella stressed out
Now I’ve got my feet up and my legs are stretched out
And we got a pool and a crib that’s hella decked out
The game’s getting spoiled, we’re the one’s that you done left out
Ever since I was a youngin’, I was fitted when I stepped out
Toothbrush soaked in water, strawberries looking fresh now
Shout out to this rap shit, got my chin up and my chest out
Smoking too much, got my chest looking caved in
Looking in the mirror like nobody could save him
Started popping off and had nothing to say then
If you don’t like it, get the fuck up out my way then
You gotta get up, get out or get something, be a brave man
Hooping at the park, shit recording in the basement
On YouTube watch tutorials, wondering how to make it
Shit we all dreamers, my nigga you gotta chase it
The game was looking ugly, we just gave it a facelift
Success right in front of my face and I could taste it
Posted in the dungeon fam, voice worth a hundred grand
Still just a simple man, chilling in some dirty Vans
I been had these when I first had recorded at my friend’s crib
Mason passed a .44, man you on some lame shit
That’s just how we thought back then, now we on some fame shit
And they think they know me cause they knowing my last name shit
We came a long ass way from the Dentist’s Office
Started getting love and labels making us offers
Got the city mad, they don’t wanna see us prosper
The three of us are better than, their entire roster
You gotta, take that shit, you can’t just trust a process
Ain’t no taking handouts, ain’t no fucking promises
Ain’t no wrong way about it when it comes to making profit
You gotta do you bruh, ain’t nothing gon’ stop shit
It’s like a celebration everytime that we drop shit
After Floss they were like, «How they gonna top it?»
Leave em wanting more, they eat it up when we drop it
You ain’t gotta like us but the hustle, you can’t knock it
You ain’t gotta, ask around to know that we been popping
You can hear the influence, you know that they jocking
Nobody can take away the hours that we clocked in
My niggas we made it, thank you all for copping