H.A.N. (feat. 31 Gramms)

I'm at dinner with my side chick

Tryna keep it private

She said she lost her appetite

I swear, baby, I'ma find it

Here come my ****

My **** want a picture

I thought he was a fan

Now my **** want a feature

Come on, ****

Come on, ****

Come on, ****

Now my **** want a dealing

He keep lookin' at me serious

I look back at my bitch and she said I should sign the ****

He showin' me the soundcloud, I tell him save the trouble

I try to give the email but he only want the number

He ask, "How you get verified

You pay for it or something?

How your gold song go

Man, that shit was funny"

He asked, "Should I do a major or make independent money?"

I said, "****, where my salmon at

I don't want no onion"

Let not be too disrespectful

****, I'm just tryna spit

To you, I need some verse

But you about to make your food be here

I just got outta jail

I don't care nothing 'bout this shit

I don't want no fuckin' job

I just tryna go legit

So why the fuck you trippin'?

****, I thought you were real

Well bless me with a verse

Help a **** get a deal

I want gold all in my watch

Got a little gold in my chain

Why the fuck you bein' so lame?

Goddamn, ****, you changed

Hold that little chain

That longer than your little fame

And I heard you did a little movie

Tryin' to revive your little name

Well listen, forget it

I know I still goin' for a picture

Oh, no?

Well fuck you then, old Hollywood ass ****

Gramm