Chrome Heart jeans look kinda dumb with the Amiris Some would call it crazy, half a ticket on some earrings At it for a decade, had a plug when I was sixteen PTSD, I ain't sleep so I don't got dreams Two things I ain't running out, this money and this lean Two things I care about, my family and my team We was supposed to keep it on the low, but why you scream Balling like the playoffs, I was tryna get a ring Penthouse in Miami Pretty vibes wildin' out like they work for Nick Cannon Tell that bitch to have a seat I know that she can't stand it Tell them boys it's fuck 'em all, ain't got no understanding Legend in my neighborhood for real, free Shannon Keeping my composure, I'm on chill, I can't panic Thеy say I wouldn't make it past two years, but I managed to You supposеd to go with how you feel, I'm not mad at you G-Wagen matte-blue
She get my rocks off, I buy her Goyard Fuck all the time and still act like I don't know her I heard that pressure bursts pipes, I come so hard Why y'all on my dick? You know that's your ho job Ain't worried 'bout nothing Everybody they own boss, we all getting this money Call it what you wanna call it, I'm one of the owners I could've exposed you, brodie but I ain't gon' talk about it
I was in the trap too, I fucked up my sack too Most of that shit cap, can't go for that you say it's facts, prove it Plug had us on a stash dub but now we back moving They thought they was winning 'til I entered now they back losing Brodie in prison on an iPhone getting tattoed I don't know who told you to come for me, that's a bad move I ain't in no space for no company, I'm in a bad mood Only thing I gotta abide by is the cash rules If you think I ain't running this money up, you a damn fool Tryna count my pockets, my net worth ain't on no damn Google Fifty million dollars in a year, if I'm lying, shoot me Five hundred thousand every show, I'm on my grind, stupid I been fucking her and her best friend I put 'em in a group text They done made you mad get in your bag, that's how you posed to do that Everybody got a hundred guns, they know what no to shoot at I'ma get this guap until I'm done, bro I can promise you that I was on the block when shit was lit for real where the fuck was you at? Never drop no song then hit a bitch for real, bro we don't do that We the ones that's really out here pushing, bro I thought you knew that Come through in that what's-her-name everybody look like, "Who that? "
She get my rocks off, I buy her Goyard Fuck all the time and still act like I don't know her I heard that pressure bursts pipes, I come so hard Why y'all on my dick? You know that's your ho job Ain't worried 'bout nothing Everybody they own boss, we all getting this money Call it what you wanna call it, I'm one of the owners I could've exposed you, brodie but I ain't gon' talk about it
Compositores: Dominique Jones (Dominique Armani Jones), Anton Sergeevich Gololobov, William Boyette, Harto Harto ECAD: Obra #37343410