Similar Songs
Credits
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Smoov
Songwriter
Lyrics
Money on my mind, that's all on my agenda
Must been making too much paper, ain't no ink left in my printer huh
Been telling the truth, but sometimes I think I ought to lie
But I can't let them catch me slipping like a water slide
Facing all these blunts, all this smoke got me water eyed
Never forget about that night I seen my mama crying
Brother left the crib, moving with his baby mama
Hardest shit I ever did was watch him leave looking out the blinds
Tell me what you know about it boy Soul of an angel but aggressive as a dinosaur
So use to being damaged, I'm like Fuck it just a minor sore
Light the torch, And watch me burn they ass, if we fighting a war
I'm standing tall in the paint like I'm Yao Ming
Yo crew be full of them chickens, Buffalo Wild Wings
My crew authentic, never switching unless its clothes
I mean like really we never switching unless it's hoes
That's the code, never break it, yah dig that
Swallow it whole, got me asking her where my kids at
Gave her the pole, now she yelling out boy you did that
Rubbed her in oil, now she greasier that some pig phat
The music just in me my nigga, be honest, I don't know how to fight it
Like look how I switch it my nigga, I'm keeping em shocked like some nikes huh huh
Just wait till I get me a Aston, I pray to god I don't crash it
Trying to make me a mill off of rapping, to move my mama in a mansion
You wanna make it boy you gotta work hard, make sure you dream right
I'm on go, feeling like I'm john legend, give me the green light Superhero nigga watching cartoons
Think I'm a teen titan
You eating good but you leave your niggas starving see you the green type
Day light, I use to be accustomed to the street life
On the corner posted, like a street light
I had to find a way to grind, cause If you want it
Fuck nigga you can get it, hey
I can't never take a break at all, not even if it's intermission
To the check Imma get to it
Made me some racks then I threw it Fucking on sisters
I swear that they look a like, they body shape so congruent
But Ian gone lie, I been focused on music, trying to make sure that I takeoff
These lil niggas swear that they balling, But they ain't make it to the playoffs
Wake up and pray to the lord, that the dedication payoff
I'm not with fussing and arguing, she wanna quit, I let her lay off
Aye, Young nigga straight out of Mississippi
My Uniform as clean as a Memphis city
Kid right off the bus, with the crispy dickies
I'm popping like grease and some chicken, hey
I'm used to getting money, and dressing nice, rocking kicks that ain't out yet
I blow them bands like a flute nigga, walk in and fuck up the outlet, hey
Writer(s): Stephen Paul Robson, Ashton Fletcher Irwin, Michael Gordon Clifford, James Elliot Bourne, Christopher John Bourne
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com