J Salt - Skyscrapers Lyrics

This that
Black sample
Carolina anthem
I speak for the culture
Kill all the vultures
On 'em like poachers
Y'all boys posers
Selfie queens
Females dogs
To the whole ting
I-J-S
I'm just sayin', homie
This ain't a text
Yo, I'm up next
And now too
Synonymous
Yea, wit' my whole crew
On deck
Cruisin' to the check
Probably catch a jet
NY state of mind
Marshall Law
Yea, My brand on
Switched like a light
Not no gay shit
But my fits nice
ADA to Soxiety
Streetwear be my higher me
'Bout to start label
Good luck tryna sign me
Majors
Y'all some haters
Rapin' artists, for their hard earned paper
360 deals is a steal
When you own the talent
You rake the bills
Leave the artist high and dry
Then fall to demise
Then, sign another guy
Who didn't read the
Fine line print
Yo, I'm just talkin' little shit
Sell your soul to pay the rent
Homie, Don't, Uh
Bryson Tiller scripts
I'm not singin' shit
Just raps for now
Draw the curtain and let me take a bow
This is the show
I got the game
PlayStation
Boxing every ex out my life
One day later
New news
Tomorrow's paper
Blue face hundreds
Headline chaser

Gotta get that paper
(Skyscrapers)
Gotta get that paper
(Skyscrapers)
Gotta get that paper 'til it stack like skyscrapers
(Skyscrapers)
Gotta get that paper
(Skyscrapers)
Gotta get that paper
(Skyscrapers)
Gotta get that paper 'til it stack like skyscrapers
(Skyscrapers)
Gotta get that paper
(Skyscrapers)
Gotta get that paper
(Skyscrapers)
Gotta get that paper 'til it stack like skyscrapers
(Skyscrapers)
Gotta get that paper
(Skyscrapers)
Gotta get that paper
(Skyscrapers)
Gotta get that paper 'til it stack like skyscrapers

I'm just patiently waiting for my shine
On point, it's right on time
Trust, I gotta get mines
When I spit these rhymes
Yea, I tell the truth
Fact check, homie
Yea, I'm the news
C-N-N
You watch for the view
I got crime on lock
I hear every shot that these brother n****s shot
It's ok
Forgive you today
But don't diss me, dawg
The homies got the K
Not afraid to spray
Keep it peaceful
Mention no names
I just want to win the game
The game that we play
Ain't no love in it
It don't love you back
It's about the money
The cars
The clothes
Slave contracts
I don't want none of that
All I want is to carry this name on my back
Permanent, it's a tat
Salters season every track
Grilled to perfection
Better health be a weapon
Gotta fry 'em less
Heartburn is real
Go ahead and grab ya chest
Yo, I'm servin' up the best
Emeril in the kitchen
Whippin' up the sauce
Be ready in a minute
Cause I'm gifted
Wit' the lyric dishes
5 star, full course meal in the kitchen
Just get the dishes
Full off the whippin'
The kitchen been closed
Ain't no second plate, bitches