Lyrics: Aaron Reynolds
Music: Ben Wilson
Easy does it,
Got bars in my repertoire. Seen you as a mug,
And not as hard as you said you are.
Never gassed, no drive—better get a car.
Thrive off the fact they ain’t getting far.
Splitting half, got a soft spot for spitting hard lyrics.
This shit’ll have ’em studying my drops like a physicist.
Getting vexed ’cause they tried to make a hit and missed.
You can say I’m ignorant, but this is bliss.
So I tell ’em don’t sweat,
If times low, know I’ll go get what they can’t.
Won’t be filled with regret.
So I tell ’em don’t sweat.
With bro looking pro on the set,
But these cheques need some more O’s yet.
So I tell ’em don’t sweat, sweat, sweat, sweat,
So I tell ’em don’t sweat, sweat, sweat, sweat.
(So I tell ’em don’t—)
Don’t sweat it, world out there, best go get it.
Wrote this for the ones who’ll still be butters when I’m so breaded.
Cool, staying cold-headed.
I spit this shit, you drool.
Save it for them slow breddas moving like some fools,
The type who wanna be the one,
The type who wanna be that guy.
Don’t even look the part, I’ve seen it with my eyes.
It’s not your lifestyle, it’s lies, little homie.
Acting like you know me, gotta get it.
But I know this world don’t owe me shit.
So I tell ’em don’t sweat,
If times low, know I’ll go get what they can’t.
Won’t be filled with regret.
So I tell ’em don’t sweat.
With bro looking pro on the set,
But these cheques need some more O’s yet.
So I tell ’em don’t sweat, sweat, sweat, sweat,
So I tell ’em don’t sweat, sweat, sweat, sweat,
So I tell ’em don’t sweat, sweat, sweat, sweat,
Sweat, sweat, sweat, sweat, sweat, sweat, sweat, sweat.