Lyrics

I'll leave the game and come back like I'm Paul Pierce I ignore haters, if it's money, I'm all ears Baby head a ten and the pussy so fierce You niggas not around when you losing, don't hear no cheers You gon' see days when you up, days when you down Past messed me up, when I'm happy I don't even smile They gon' suck the game up like a fucking towel You cannot just get this overnight, boy, it's gon' take a while I been balling for a minute, told my coach I need a breather It can be the end of May, I'm still around with the heater I can only sell you sauce, I do not come with a teacher Woke up in that type of mood to wear my chain with just a beater Pull up with a bad redbone, if you want a feat' Shout-out Chris Smoove, if you reach then I gotta teach I can show you how I get it, I don't like to preach Yes, black lives do matter, tell 'em free Big Meech Game face on, where the pape'? I ain't playing games I'm getting life if it's that, bitch, I ain't saying that Buffed up eating steaks, still ain't even gaining weight If it ain't 10K plus, dude, throw the play away I need a 'bow of za, where the fuck is [?] at? You kissing on her pretty little face, that's where I jizz at You up a hunnid but your brother broke, where is his at? This some Wockhardt, you sipping beer out asix pack Steph Curry walking in the Chase, that's a easy three Wearing Crocs around some millionaires, I'm just being me Pull up on your bitch, I'm in her walls like a BNE Missed twenty-something money calls, phone on DND Talking choppy, got the chop tucked, don't get chopped up Yo bitch a whore, gang shooting shot, she ain't swat once If I hear it's in the air, boy, you better not jump Big loaf in these 'Miri jeans, heard you got crumbs Ooh, you a filthy guy Caught him in a orange Scat Pack and we peeled his ride Smiling for the dubs but all them L's still inside If I put the coupe in sports mode, bet this bitch gon' fly Tell my brothers they can call on me if they ever down Twenty-something deep in the function, got them steppers 'round Ex bitch swore she was shitting, heard she jealous now Heard bitcoin finna drop, I might sell it now Phew, ayy, ShittyBoyz
Writer(s): James Johnson Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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