制作

出演艺人
Tevin Smith
Tevin Smith
说唱
作曲和作词
Tevin Smith
Tevin Smith
词曲作者
制作和工程
Tevin Smith
Tevin Smith
工程师

歌词

(LavishThatsTooHot, LavishThatsTooHot)
It's Thirty
**** tried to get me outta here, man
Ain't goin' nowhere, though
And it's '25, bitch
What y'all wanna do?
Huh, they tried to take me out the game but I'm still winnin'
Hmm, I won't stop shootin' my gun until it feel empty
My first day out the 'spital, I bought a ten milli'
Hmm, I know them **** sick as fuck, they gotta deal with me
Hmm, I used to smoke anything, now I'm real picky
Hmm, catch a hat, then move down South like I'm a hillbilly
Hmm, I tried to put you **** on but y'all couldn't deal wit' me
Hmm, I ain't used to fuck with 'em, now it's pills in me
Hmm, I need my box of drank sealed, I hate open cases
You wanna make it in the streets, you gotta know the basics
I hit the store and grab white lows, I'm not gon' go with Asics
Dyin' from a headshot normal, but the shoulder crazy
Hmm, stand on ten and ride with fin if you wanna live your life
Huh, the shit you make in one month, I get it in one night
Huh, I'll buy six lines of Wock' and drop it in one Sprite
Huh, the bitch I'm with pissed I ain't trick, you shoulda been my type
Huh, they tellin' me to, "Take a break", I'll die if I sit
Hm, I'm glad I got my CPL, I thank God for the bitch
Huh, I keep two **** wit' me now to add eyes to the whip
These are not no chains to reach for, **** died for the shit
Hm, I found out where **** live, ain't no hidin' the whip
They told me I can't smoke, so ain't no gettin' high in my shit
Huh, one gun ain't gon' be enough, I got like five in my shit
If I call your phone, bitch, you better answer, don't decline my shit
That **** head was kinda hot, but now it's ten degrees
Huh, before I pay a bitch to fuck, I'll give her a ten to leave
Huh, me and my brother almost fought, that **** hid the trees
Huh, then he upped like twenty bands, then we took ten a piece
Huh, I wish I could pop dog ass again but that's my inner tweak
His bitch-ass died the same day, that made me sick for weeks
Huh, I could never punch a clock, them **** pinch and tweak
Huh, you sent your man on a mission and that bitch incomplete
Huh, I can't fuck with juice or pop, it's either tea or water
That **** did his whole sentence, he think he beat the charges
Hm, my brother high tryna bet the Pistons beat the Chargers
Huh, right now my whole hood hate me, so I BP'd the Chargers
Hmm, I got three chains and bullet holes, that's why the price went up
I know 'Gram pissed, they tried to black-ball me and my likes went up
Hmm, I'm just gon' see you when I see you, I don't type that much
Hmm, I like to rock with one up top, I'm not gon' fight that much
Hmm, fuck gettin' fresh, I like to hit my plays in sweat suits
Hmm, I wasn't just breathin' by myself, I had two chest tubes
I told her that I had some dog, she brought some pet food
Huh, all my steps be thought about, I'm makin' chess moves
Bitch
Real Money Counter, M.I.N.E. shit, ****
Don't be the next **** to die over this shit
Just use your head and just be proud of it
Come on, It's Thirty
Written by: Tevin Smith
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