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Food feat. Styles P
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Being liked was never in my list of plans I give a fuck about your Instagram I give a fuck about your Twitter Don't follow me, you see me in the street, nigga I'm a giant, noisy footsteps can't sneak with ya — Been runnin' shit, the next move is a flea flicker Still makin' 'em sick like sweet liquor Book full of "told yous" in my MVP picture 90 percent of my songs gloomy, I'm bar heavy I brought them bitches out a dark room like R. Kelly Gorilla papers keep the car smelly Thinkin' I won't line you up, dead wrong on the contrary Diamonds on my pimp hand, my buckle strapped, Ferragam' Scorin' like a six man, quarter pound of Marathon Awaitin' a day when all of my bad habits gone Money, power, respect, all the above added on The fuck can niggas tell me, dog? Nothin' You walk around frontin', pro'ly gon' get into somethin' Niggas'd be food, never dinner function Better keep your cool or pretend, or somethin' Me and Blue again (what up?) Blue steel in the foreign, yeah, I'm a CEO but move like a hooligan If I'm in the club, then the owner gon' let the shooter in Stick it in car oil, baby oil and lubricant Known to set trip, you only trip when you Uberin' Went in godspeed for the time that I'm maneuvering Yeah, I matter like Black lives Baptized in the black five on nine-five with a crack pie Lloyd, we think of Floyd Mayweather and George Blowin' smoke out the sunroof, talk to the lord Thank God for the stash box in the Accord (thank God) All the old school drug dealers rocking velour Arm, leg, a leg, a arm, head and take these That's the act, I sold crack just to bread, me And I stuck niggas too, and I cut niggas too They be like, "Fuck gooks," but I be like, "Fuck niggas too", what? The fuck can niggas tell me, dog? Nothin' You walk around frontin', pro'ly gon' get into somethin' Niggas'd be food, never dinner function Better keep your cool or pretend, or somethin' Bet they hit their boyfriends with the okey-doke Prepare for the hoedown, this ain't her first rodeo Watch me break this shit down like polio The fuckin' world can turn on a nigga long as the homies don't From South Jamaica to San Antonio Seven days, I'm targetin' paper, raining colonial Killin' for years, my ceremony's due I feel disrespected when niggas tell me my clone is you If I should jump out the window, it's necessary You got something to say to me, tell my secretary Request a order for June, see you in February Thirty'll get you a V, just have the edit ready I been legendary, this is my second tour Fuck the company, what's a building to a wreckin' ball? Bunch of bitch-ass niggas that need a epidural Take the Cuban links off, get 'em a neck of pearls The fuck can niggas tell me, dog? Nothin' You walk around frontin', pro'ly gon' get into somethin' Niggas'd be food, never dinner function Better keep your cool or pretend, or somethin'
Writer(s): Alexander Sowinski, Matthew Tavares, Chester Hansen, Adam King Feeney Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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