Artist: B.o.B f/ Chris Brown, T.I. Album: Strange Clouds Song: Arena Typed by: OHHLA Webmaster DJ Flash [Intro/Chorus: Chris Brown] If anybody feelin fresh in the buildin Take your hand, hold it high to the ceiling right now And say damn I'm killin them, damn I'm killin them I know they feelin me now And if you too fresh in the buildin then take your hand, hold it high to the ceiling right now And say damn I'm killin them, damn I'm killin them I know they feelin me now [B.o.B] I'm still here with a lifestyle you would kill for Still here with the same shoes that I had on from the get-go Straight out of Atlanta, Georgia, for any of y'all that didn't know and I'm never that hard to find because 4:20 is my zip code Bit back then couldn't get 'dro, cause back then I was this broke That's why I got so many hustles, +Bruh-Man+ from the fifth flo' What would you do in the middle of the winter when the sun goes down and it gets cold? Growin up in the house with no stove - no doors, no walls, no windows And my brother was always fresher, I would go to school in his clothes when I did go; so that's why now this the type of life that I live fo' Comin' up as a youngin man some nights I would vomit I would throw up on myself cause I was so sick to my stomach Now I'm the shit, fix the plumbin, feel it with me y'all I'm this close Spent my whole life chasin chips so where's Nabisco? My past memories, I miss those But hey, all I can say is you get what you wish fo' [Chorus] [T.I.] Let's kill 'em, let's go, ay~! I'm fresh off my pit stop, flow airtight with no Ziplock Get shit pop when my shit drop, no hip-hop, this TIP-hop I'm back standin at the tip-top where I belong, it won't be long 'til you hear me on a B.o.B song, some chick gettin my skeet on To touch the sole of my feet G you gon' have to get yo' reach on I'm up all the way high, all the way fly on the ground and I'm off the radar Bernie Madoff money dawg, got killers paid off with it all I got the juice, could just place a call, and you place a call to who place a call I take your barkin not too hard, I disregard what you say Back up the trunk and pass the buck, here's where I'm stoppin today Got swag all on me homey, can't wipe it away we too ill, ill That's how we got arenas, domes, and stadiums filled - it's how you feel [Chorus] [B.o.B] Damn, damn, yo! And I'm still here with a black whip from the "Strange Clouds" And I'm still here with the same team, nigga stay down Still here for the Eastside, ain't a thing change but the bank account Hands high when I come 'round, cause I'm killin this shit nigga hands down And I go hard, my passport's like a postcard Give a fuck if I'm solo, I'll go toe-to-toe with'cha whole squad with the soul of a soldier but even still I don't want no parts of no niggaz with no hearts, you cocksuckers need throat guards I'm throwed off for the most part, a young dog with an old bark Flow dumb, but I'm so smart; I compose art, call me Mozart My nightlife's like a soap opera with two chicks like it's Noah's Ark They got nice dresses with no bras but good bodies like "OH GOD~!" From a poor child to on top like a mohawk But I always knew I'd go far, like a gas truck with no park So no applause, hold the applause Just put your hand up if you know the song [Chorus] - 2X