Florida Boy Do Your Dance!

I know I sell myself short, looking at the ceiling fan Spin around, again and again This repetition got me stuck in a trance Big Glock in my pants, Flo Rida, do your dance Yeah, I made me some bands, yeah, I got me a Benz Yeah, I got me a chain, and I still feel the same And I still feel insane I put on for these rappers, I think I'm changing the game But if they don't feel the same, then fuck it, get in my lane And see if you can get the crowd moving for you the same And see if you can get the crowd moving for you the same Yeah Is this it? Is that all? Got my back to the wall as I'm looking around, anticipating my fall Searching for answers but stuck with these questions Is somebody trying to teach me a new lesson? Is this it? Is that all? Is this it? Is that all? How long should I wait until I move on? Back to the air mattress and the coupons I realize it'll never be enough for me What do I gotta do to live comfortably? I think I'd give it back if it was up to me My mind's not moving like it's supposed to be These labels need to really back off of me I really don't care what they offer me Okay, now you talking money, I guess you do speak my language I don't give a fuck who you is or who you hang with Baby Bone, no, I never been the one to stay silent Everybody grab your guns, let's start a riot Are you so sick and tired of these men in your pockets That never even left the office but Promised to give you just what you wanted? Oh no, now they got you stuck in a financial coffin Now you gotta pay it back with every cent of your profit?