متن آهنگ
Y'all be hella high powered on them socials Face-to-face, I don't feel all them emotions Money plays, I don't make 'em with emotion Focused, never loafin', enough drip to fill an ocean Ooh, me on ho shit, never Ooh, big boogers in a bezel Ooh, real niggas like 'Ooh' You ain't tryna lose, better follow my moves, on God Not from Buffalo, but I'm playin' with a few Bills My medallion frostbitten, might give a penguin the chills I'm the author and I'm an inventor of this style that you spongin' up Your bitch on my fender, I told her, 'I'm married, don't wanna fuck' I pray to my God like I'm at a mosque On my knees like I'm arrested by the cops Prices go up and down like a see-saw Cameras up in my studio, I could see y'all Flyer than the Blue Angels, more sticks than the glue man got My rifle was stock 'til I modified that bitch with a bump stock (A bump stock?) An accessory that I bought I could turn a semi to fully, put hellas holes in your hoodie Hella holes in your hoodie, hella holes in your lip These 7-point-6-2s'll eat your whip Hot-headed, I'll blow a fuse, I'll put out a hit Give you and your niggas the blues, I'm with the shit (BIATCH!) Y'all be hella high powered on them socials When we got face-to-face, I don't feel all them emotions (Not close) Money plays, I don't make 'em with emotion Focused, never loafin', enough drip to fill an ocean Ooh, me on ho shit, never Ooh, big boogers in a bezel Ooh, real niggas like 'Ooh' You ain't tryna lose, better follow my moves, on God On God, I ain't playin' wit' you niggas My side gettin' money with the winners Yeah, I see what they be doin' but I don't feel 'em Stars in the ceilin', watchin' for the killin' (What?) Murder the scene like I pulled up in an ambulance (Woo) Nigga, whoever laughs, Silent Gary get the gat You need the gas? Oh damn, let me poot California legend, rest in peace Ron Newt (What?) Miss me with that thug talk 'cause I ain't tryna hear You may fool what's in that mirror but that shit ain't in your spirit You may want me on your song, but on my mama, I ain't gon' clear While I'm ready for that drama, on my mama, I don't fear it Ask 40, and the dead homies, and my new Roley It's a bunch of me's everywhere, it's like the game cloned me I ain't gon' never ever forget what the game showed me So now I'm back to get everything the game owe me (What?) Y'all be hella high powered on them socials (Hella high) Face-to-face, I don't feel all them emotions (Not one) Money plays, I don't make 'em with emotion Focused, never loafin', enough drip to fill an ocean Ooh, me on ho shit, never Ooh, big boogers in a bezel Ooh, real niggas like 'Ooh' You ain't tryna lose, better follow my moves, on God More hammers than a tool box (Tool box) More poles than the Bass Pro Shop (Pro Shop) Don't get scalped with the tomahawk (Tomahawk) Don't get your head put on the choppin' block (Choppin' block) Be careful who you ridin' with 'Cause you ride with might be into some shit (In some shit) These bitches'll have you pussy-whipped Thinkin' wit' ya dick'll get ya hit (Get ya hit) I don't trust nobody, you either my friend or foe (Foe) I don't even trust my own family no more (More) I remember cookin' ki's of candy or blow Now I get six figures at these festival shows When we shootin' dice it's hully gully pee-wee, no catcher (Uh) Bet I 10 or 4 before I 7-11 Bet you I could sic a bad bitch on a reverend Bet you if I ran for mayor I'd win the election (BIATCH!) Y'all be hella high powered on them socials Face-to-face, I don't feel all them emotions Money plays, I don't make 'em with emotion Focused, never loafin', enough drip to fill an ocean Ooh, me on ho shit, never Ooh, big boogers in a bezel Ooh, real niggas like 'Ooh' You ain't tryna lose, better follow my moves, on God
هنرمندان
آلبوم
Practice Makes Paper