Pur3 Evil

My body in Prada from Italy White gold on my teeth ain't no silver teeth Gave my shooter a perc he was fidgety 30 bands on me like a trilogy Where I'm from we didn't know shit but misery I love money just look what it did for me It's crazy that racks were my missing piece I spin his block with no sympathy They talk all that talk where they gon go Where they gon hide when I pull up they fold The people around me never break the code They know if they do I'll put em in a hole All of my diamonds they glow You just a bitch I know My shooter off white like snow He gon make sure that you pay what you owe I ain't call bro in a while His phone got tapped by the feds I got work I got white by the pile He touch my bread end up dead They can say what they want I just want a check Designer on me black and white like a ref What color he wearing Imma turn it red He gon leave a stain on the ground where he bled You can hold me to everything that I just said I dont gotta do shit just put bread on your head I dropped outta school how the fuck could I focus My dad was in jail he was facing like 10 I don't know how to fold I don't bend Pick a side get off of the fence I got too much so of course imma spend I'm good for a while I've been thinking ahead Don't play their music around me it's trash Just left the bank I'm dissecting a stack I get a bag and I run through it fast I don't give a fuck cause it's coming right back Then I do it again and again and again They ain't flexin shit it's hard not to laugh I see you outside then we gonna clash I can't wait till I turn em into ash I was in Mexico making American bands I can't get enough I can't relax Sweet life I feel like Zach They thought they was it and got left in the past I'm in LA in a coupe, it's black Don't got nothin to recoup no advance I fuckin hate when they hold out they hands Asking for sh (I'm so sorry) I bet if I made it right now And they found out they'd be all on my dick But I forgive I never forget I told you I'm making a list, I told you that I would be rich My own blood switched, Honest to God I didn't think they would switch Blades in my back, the feds in the crib Fuck em I don't think I spoke to them since That's probably why I can never trust shit Cuban links I got racks on my wrist I was broke I was looking for bliss If I take a shot then I probably won't miss My glock flirty it's gon blow you a kiss I keep a strap I ain't using my fist We not the same we never gon click Honest to God I forgot you exist