Lyrics

Niggas prayin' on my downfall (Straight up) These niggas prayin' on my downfall Straight up from the bleachers, but I'm a different creature I bring shit to the table, I ain't fuckin' with no leechers (No) Dope dick, oh shit, I gave my bitch a seizure (Damn) Knew somethin' was weird once that bro had a kitchen full of beakers And he ain't no chem teacher I looked up to that nigga, then I looked up the preacher That's why a nigga be preachin' I can't fuck with people who ain't passionate, I'm adamant If it's my plan, it's elaborate, dropped out of State But a nigga still did mastered it My shit, I'm smashin' it (Woah) Your shit, I'm snatchin' it (Woah) Holy Jesus, Lazarus AI braids, so don't be talkin' 'bout no practice, bitch I done been around actors and activists I can get money alone or collaborative I can take a pic with a bad bitch And afterwards she a badder bitch, that's facts Yeah, I'm with Cody and Dixie (Both) Three dollars to my name, got a juice and a McChicken (Starvin') Call in some Coney, it's gone be done in twenty minutes Don't go up there with no strap, might have to bang it out with some niggas, wait, hold up Went on Google, when I looked up your lyrics, they had no meaning in them Pourin' actavist on my bullets, might have to lean a n Yes, she bad, but I can't wife her if she been seen with niggas I rather stay broke and go chase with some greedy niggas Like mic drop, I'm like "I wish I was Lil Bow Wow" Unc life, never wish you was another nigga It ain't fuck these niggas, but fuck these niggas Asked am I happy with this money, bitch, I'm happy to be livin' I was makin' a sandwich, they started shootin' through the kitchen I got lower than a midget, bullets crashin' through them digits Ayy, I'm really from them trenches (Really) Nigga sneak diss me, then see me and ask for pictures Ayy man, these niggas bitches If I don't do that real nigga shit, how they gon' see it? All these other rappers killers are drippin' like Reese's Pieces All that shit smoke and mirrors, Arabic shisha Started talkin' to moon, God made me a different creature, ahh Remember when I almost gave up on this music shit? (I did) Highly favored, ayy, I really dodged a bougie bitch She see the Cubans, she gon' want the coochie hit (Come here) My chain got more fuckin' colors than a Coogi fit Stay talkin' 'bout me, tell them, tell you how I feel (Tell) I thank God, he been workin' harder than the Devil (Amen) I'm a black rich felon with some hit records Joy Road, what I been, yellin', niggas been tellin' Care 'bout a lot, but I don't give a fuck 'bout what it cost (I don't) You ain't gotta pay for nothin', bitch, you with a boss (My guy) Just don't go over your budget, that's gon' piss me off They wanna know my cologne, can't let them get the sauce Love my hood, but you will never see me go there (Never) All that "Been a real nigga" shit ain't get me nowhere (Nowhere) You love your hood? nigga, fuck your hood See the world, go get a crib, off the coast, layin' good My whole hood got extinct over petty beef Niggas I looked up to growing up, they deceased Wish they could have been here, damn, how I get here? God saved me with the rap game, even though this shit weird (Shit weird) Me and Shine, we put on for the crib Call us DTE 'cause we cut on the lights around that bitch Fat ugly nigga, get 'em wet like Pretty Ricky She gon' throw it back for my McLaren, fifty-fifties On my mama I was really in them trenches (In them trenches) Bangin', niggas bitches On my mama I was really in them trenches (In them trenches) Ayy, they ain't men, nigga bitches, you hear me?
Writer(s): Chauncey A. Hollis, Sean Michael Anderson, Terry Sanchez Wallace Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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