Remember those two fools in the diner parking lot?

Yeah… now we’re in L.A.

Still loud. Still hot. Just richer.

⸻

Came from the mud, now the hills in view,

Two broke bros, now we drip like dew.

Pulled up late in a beat-up ride,

Now the doors go up and the stars outside.

Used to chase likes, now the likes chase me,

Got heat on repeat and the rent ain’t free.

Hollywood dreams in a thrift store fit,

Now it’s custom threads and we still don’t quit.

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From the diner to the sign,

Now we sippin’ on skyline.

Two bros, one vibe,

Now we livin’ that prime time.

Yo, we made it, LA lights,

Broke the net with zero rights.

Trap drop, bass pop,

We the storm and we don’t stop!

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Sunglasses on, attitude loud,

Walk like we own the whole damn crowd.

Streaming checks where the tips used to be,

Now we park front row like we own the street.

Used to eat cheap, now it’s five-star flame,

But we still got hot dogs in the Hall of Fame.

From a late-night grind to the global scroll,

Now our inbox poppin’ with the LA gold.

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You think we changed?

Nah, we just got louder.

More bass. More sass.

Same fire.

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We don’t flex—we detonate.

Shut the block down when we celebrate.

No invite? Too late.

We here now—validate!

From broke boys to billboard,

We didn’t knock—we kicked the door!

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Rented dreams? Nah, this lease in my name,

Studio lit, and the songs insane.

Midnight grind got us mansion views,

And we still keep it raw in designer shoes.

No ghostwrite, just ghost mode,

We haunt charts with every code.

So if they ask where we came from—say:

Two legends lit the map and moved to L.A.

⸻

From the diner to the sign,

Now we sippin’ on skyline.

Two bros, one vibe,

Now we livin’ that prime time.

Yo, we made it, LA lights,

Broke the net with zero rights.

Trap drop, bass pop,

We the storm and we don’t stop!

⸻

No label. No blueprint. Just grind.

Now it’s palm trees, beats, and neon signs.

Catch us in the hills—or not.

We’re busy… being legends.