Lyrics

Only dream is just to be the greatest Smoke marijuana, I love the fragrance 7 figures, man, this shit amazin' Cartier lenses, I can see 'em hatin' The sky's the limit, I stay lookin' up If you don't know my name, then you can look it up From the bottom, but I took it up Still be trappin', my brothers, I hook 'em up Heard it's a bag on my head, I ain't duckin' no beef Bitch, you know I'm still takin' the top off My shooters ain't takin' no jumpers, they like to do lay-ups We pull up and knockin' his top off Oh okay! Hot like the flex in that photo race Sip act, I need like four more dranks Big body, I need like four more lanes Clutch the gang, I need like four more chains Only dream is just to be the greatest Smoke marijuana, I love the fragrance 7 figures, man, this shit amazin' Cartier lenses, I can see 'em hatin' The sky's the limit, I stay lookin' up If you don't know my name, then you can look it up From the bottom, but I took it up Still be trappin', my brothers, I hook 'em up Feel like I got scoliosis, bitch, I get massages while ridin' around in that Maybach If you say you want beef, we ain't doin' no squashin', hell nah, we ain't doin' no takebacks On the 'Gram wit' a row, when I see you in person, you know we don't have shit, we take that Don't want pussy, lil' hoe, where yo' face at? Dick in her throat, yeah, I'm fuckin' her face back Face all my problems, I don't do no crime I pop an addy, then pour up a lime I'm on the gram wit' a Glock and a pine I ain't stressin' and still fold my P.O Knock knock, if you knock wrong, then we shootin' his ass through the peephole Keep a .40 and it's holdin' a three-oh Cock on my Glock, yeah, my Glock got a deepthroat Rollin' my pockets, you notice we keep those Heard it's a bag on my head, I ain't duckin' no beef Bitch, you know I'm still takin' the top off My shooters ain't takin' no jumpers, they like to do lay-ups We pull up and knockin' his top off Oh okay! Hot like the flex in that photo race Sip act, I need like four more dranks Big body, I need like four more lanes Clutch the gang, I need like four more chains I spent a wraith on my jewelry and still walk around with a whole bunch of bands on me Know that boy, he ain't 'bout it, he stay in the track, I can tell, when he see me, he ran from me I'm too famous for trappin', I copped me a low, gave that straight to my bro, that's my brother's pack Spent some thousands on guns just to get to the game, bitch, you know I can't let none of my brothers lack Ice on my body, I feel like a glacier, yo' bitch but she fucked me, I swear I ain't make her Ain't stressin' bout bitches, I need me some paper Squares in my circle, I bet they got boxed Brand new Glock .40, I gave it a cock I can't go back to them days I was stuck in them chains, man I swear I hate sleepin' on cots I do this shit for my brothers so they can quit trappin', I still see 'em sleep on the block If I got a problem, they creep on the block Know niggas pop, so I sleep wit' my Glock In the waters, bitch I creep wit' my ride I can't' do shit that a fuck nigga do, Imma real nigga wit' a steel nigga You get killed nigga just for lookin' wrong Fuck you, I hope you took it wrong Heard it's a bag on my head, I ain't duckin' no beef Bitch, you know I'm still takin' the top off My shooters ain't takin' no jumpers, they like to do lay-ups We pull up and knockin' his top off Oh okay! Hot like the flex in that photo race Sip act, I need like four more dranks Big body, I need like four more lanes Clutch the gang, I need like four more chains
Writer(s): Anthony Edwin Phillips, Kamron Ford Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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