Dave East, Ghostface Killah, Stacy Barthe and Kalyan Arnold - Good Good Good

Oh, oh-oh
Oh-oh
(Scram Jones)

I came with a plan and niggas hated on me (hate)
More it was my kicks, I had gators on me (yeah, gators)
Come up out them clothes, I want you naked only (oh-oh, naked only)
Don't act bougie with that watch 'cause we'll take your Rollie
Hungry on 8th, I got a taste for manners (oh, oh-oh)
Take them bitches phones, I don't play with cameras (nah)
I spent nights alone, I had to make a sandwich (oh-oh)
Already owe the store bread, not tryna take advantage (nah)
I really fuck with Ock, he always get me right
Chicken wings and rice on them Chinese nights (yeah)
I'm really from the trenches where eighteen is old (oh-oh, really)
Where they whippin' Anna Mae 'til they get Tina sold
Wintertime we thrive, you never seen the cold (oh, oh-oh)
Asolo boots and coupes you never seen get low (skrtt)
Let the beat sing, I ain't gotta rap (oh-oh)

Don't know where we headin' but I know I gotta get it, gotta find my way out (yeah)
No matter what we do or how we do it, they gon' always have a lot to say 'bout it (oh-oh)
We make it look easy (oh-oh-oh)
We make it look good, good, good
You ain't gotta ask me (yeah)
Just know that I'm good, good, good (oh-oh)

Niggas got me twisted like a bottle cap
We could wash the fifties at the laundromat (yeah)
I used to iron money just to make it straight (oh-oh)
Now I front on any bitch that ever made me wait (straight)
Middle of the projects, crab legs on a paper plate (oh, oh-oh)
Paper plates on the Range, knockin' Jada tape (yeah)
That green leggings shit
Watch niggas die 'cause y'all amp the shit
I rather be in Kith on a campin' trip (yeah)
Shouts to Ronnie Fieg, blessed, I should sneeze (yeah)
Make a chick feel presidential like she Condoleez (yeah)
Philosophies I can provide, I'm like Socrates (oh-oh)
They didn't but God did, nigga, and I believe
Get these niggas out my section just so I could breathe (oh, oh-oh)
They wait for me to bounce like they ain't tryna leave
You ain't security, king, not tryna stop your dream (oh-oh)

Don't know where we headin' but I know I gotta get it, gotta find my way out (yeah)
No matter what we do or how we do it, they gon' always have a lot to say 'bout it (oh-oh)
We make it look easy (oh-oh-oh)
We make it look good, good, good
You ain't gotta ask me
Just know that I'm good, good, good

Dreams, my chain dangle from the heavens (oh)
Supreme ambience, my knots bend like a crescent (yeah)
Avianne links, they connect like a sentence (oh-oh)
A dry mouth dyin' for a verse, I'll quench it
The pounds in the hoodie for when the nights is black (oh, oh-oh)
It bang so loud, nigga, the sky crack
It's hard, playin' the field tryna be Gandhi (oh-oh)
You can get lost civilizin' a zombie (yeah)
All they see is murder, catch the next body
More likely to turn on you and say pardon me (yeah)
Scraped up souls where the heart is damaged (oh-oh)
Some say it starts when the seed is planted but not managed
In fact the sight of a gun get these males excited (oh, oh-oh)
A rough upbringing is sadly misguided
The lies and false idols they worship
We could change but the man in the mirror is first up (yeah)

Don't know where we headin' but I know I gotta get it, gotta find my way out (yeah)
No matter what we do or how we do it, they gon' always have a lot to say 'bout it (oh-oh)
We make it look easy (oh-oh-oh)
We make it look good, good, good
You ain't gotta ask me (yeah)
Just know that I'm good, good, good (oh-oh)

I believe everybody deserves a chance (everybody)
I could show you where to walk but I can't hold your hand (yeah, I can't)
I could point you to the river, I can't make you fish (oh-oh)
I know you think you paid in full but I can't make you rich
It's certain shit in life you gotta do yourself (oh, oh-oh)
Just know your health is more important than that Louis belt
Your kids' hugs is more important than them groupie's felt
You know your man ridin', teach him how to drive that coupe his self (yeah)
You know your man ridin', teach him how to drive that coupe his self (yeah)
You know your man ridin', teach him how to drive that coupe his self (oh, oh-oh)
Chill really was my brother, felt the same way that shooter felt (oh-oh)
Nobody told me life was cards, you gotta play the hand that you been dealt

Don't know where we headin' but I know I gotta get it, gotta find my way out (yeah)
No matter what we do or how we do it, they gon' always have a lot to say 'bout it (oh-oh)
We make it look easy (oh-oh-oh)
We make it look good, good, good
You ain't gotta ask me (yeah)
Just know that I'm good, good, good

Written by:
Brian Keith Warfield, David Jr. Brewster, Dennis David Coles, Jhene Aiko Chilombo, Kaylan Nicole Arnold, Khalif Brown, Mac Robinson, Stacy Barthe

Publisher:
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group

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