album cover
Ghetto Symphony
album cover
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Past 7 Days
Ghetto Symphony was discovered most frequently at around 10 seconds into the song during the past week

Music Video

Music Video

Lyrics

[Intro]
Yeah
Okay, Treeze
[Verse 1]
Yeah, workin' hard, go and get the money
You get the money, work a lil' harder
I can't keep on turnin' up these bitches
So I been puttin' purses on my daughter
Live luxury, no roof on it, the coupe, man
You in Bal Harbour
Label told me to start vloggin'
The shit these **** dream, I do it often
Just turned the strip club to a office
Real trench baby, now we bosses
I'll buy the bar out myself and don't invite you **** to the party
Ain't talkin' 'bout that petty-ass watch
When we was puttin' ice in the Cartis
From the Range Rover to a 'Bach
Tryna turn a 'Bach to a 'Rari
Down to my last, they turn they back
I ain't really trippin', I'm a dog
**** always talkin' like they got it
Then watch 'em all decline 'cause they fraud
[Verse 2]
**** always talkin' like they gang
But we don't fuck with ****, not at all
Come and hang with me for a day
I'll blow a **** budget at the mall
Buy a new car when I'm bored
And dress it up and don't drive it far
Why the fuck I'm still buyin' clothes?
A **** whole house is Bal Harbour
I won't wear the shit you **** rockin'
Take it off and throw it in the garbage
Take a bitch and take her out the projects
Put her in the condo from apartments
Gotta watch the **** that's around you
**** sneaky workin' with the sergeant
Twenty, thirty, forty different flavors
Really havin' gas like we farted
Rap check, we flip it in the street
Flip again, then we go retarded
Eighty racks for the damn date
Fuck the time, still pull up tardy
The last we was seen in a robotic car
I press a button on my phone and it start
No matter how bad she is
I'm cuttin' a bitch right off if she ain't playin' her part
Came a long way from runnin' from narcs
Now I drop a tape and get right on the charts
I walk in the club and flood these bitches
Can't stop the rain, I feel like Lamar
[Verse 3]
P, you gettin' money? (For sure)
Takin' care of the fam? (For sure)
Told them bitches take me to a lawyer
But I'd never tell 'em what I know
Ran out the crib to grab somethin'
Glizzy in the pocket on the road
You know I came from a life of crime
Get 'noided when they knockin' at the door
Work your wrist lockin' up the dope
Once it's chopped down, it get sold
'Member when we was tryna lock the city
Now my **** runnin' 'round the globe
Sippin' old Tech in Givenchy
****, you can see the monkey on me
Foreign cars parked on the curb
They ain't sayin' shit, I know the owner
[Verse 4]
Count a half a million by myself
Don't really need no company, I'm a loner
First time I seen a whole M
I can't lie, I really had a boner
Snipe a bad bitch like a opp
Catch her out and really get up on her
We're rockin' shit two seasons early
By the time you get it, we don't want it
I'm Wavy Gang, I'm Iced Up Records
I'm MCD, I don't see no opponents
Just tell me the state that you in and the number you payin'
And I'll get 'em there in the mornin'
I don't even know how these **** be fuckin'
If I ain't got no paper, I don't even get horny
I don't even know how these rappers be beggin' for shows
And I make an M when I'm snorin'
Ain't even no need for wastin' no money on rooms
'Cause we finna fuck in a foreign
I'm hoppin' the curb, I'm doin' the dash
I'm treatin' the Forgis worse than the Jordans
You better be focused on paper and not on no Instagram
That shit ain't important
If I give you the game, you take it and run with this shit
Or you gon' be broke in your forties
[Verse 5]
I give you the game, I'm hopin' you soakin' this shit
These **** be fuckin' it up
Them OT prices got a **** spoiled
I even doubled my cut
Purpin'-ass **** really broke
They need to walk with a crutch
Diamonds shinin', scream a **** name
Whenever I walk in the club
I'm fuckin' her, bossin' her up, this style, she got it from me
You know that I'm fleek
Miu Miu or a lil' Céline
Shit'll go viral, fuck her on stream
[Verse 6]
Wavy Gang
M-Double-A-B-F-I-A
Man, come on, yeah
Vacuum seals, throw 'em all away
Drinkin' seals, go on 'bout your day
Granny's drinkin' Grand Marnier
Cough syrup like chardonnay
Trap house jammin' Marvin Gaye
Money counter, throw up in your face
Racks counted, goin' in the safe
Fanta same color marmalade
Ran through a whole blue M
Ho told her bitch, "Who him?"
I go new or old, Louis Timb
Still cut the dope, I'm too trim
Two pints on me, Lou Will
Silver **** past due bill
Baller blockin' ain't a true skill
Bitch, give me fifty Dru Hills
Finna do a Bentley push-up
When you hear the engine, look up
Quickest **** in the book club
P's and blues, I got the hook up
Sellin' jeans, these are bootcut
What the fuck I need a roof for?
Drop the top and throw the deuce up
Freezin' codeine
Written by: Kurtrel Bridgeforth, Marcellus Rayvon Register, Phillip Peaks, koshua hendricks

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