Lyrics
'Cito these niggas sleepin' on me
Gotta wake these niggas up hold up, hold up
Look at my ex, she think she the shit
Bought a new ass but still the same bitch
Could build a building with
All of these bricks
Money gymnastics, I'm makin' it flip
Jacket got zippers, ain't smokin' a zip
Told baby girl I'm as real as it get
Nigga try me, probably empty the clip
I'ma get rich off a couple of slips
Pour me a four, I be takin' a sip
Spend it so fast 'cause I'm makin' it quick
Don't got a job, mama havin' a fit
Baggin' your bitch, got a bag on my fit
Ain't even make it, she actin' for pics
Hit Neiman Marcus and Saks on the Fifth
This to the face, I ain't passin' the spliffs
Fashion from Tokyo, catchin' my drift
Like double-D's, got a lot on my chest
PO be trippin', can't leave the US
I'ma ball out until peace, I'm at rest
Got a white bitch, say she love how I dress
Don't go on dates or respond to no text
Hit a bitch once and I'm on to the next
I love the game and I love the finesse
Heard he got work, well I got it for less
When you rack five
Can't be stopped by no ref
Chasin' that bag 'til I'm all out of breath
You would've thought I was Ye on the West
Louis Vuitton on my bulletproof vest
I got good food so they think I'm a chef
Ain't about money then honey I'm deaf
Tried to do school, wasn't passin' no test
Report card by Fendi, was covered with F
Lately the love been so fake
Everybody comin' 'round
Tryna act like they fuck with me
Down on my dick, I was out hittin' licks
Tryna get me a dollar and you
Ain't show no love to me
These niggas not real
Man I swear they not one of me
These niggas so cap
Man I swear they some wannabes
From the 'yo to the trap to
The top where I'm gonna be
On the paper chase every day
Thuggin' in the streets
I had to stay down in the trenches
Out on my grind, I had to go get it
If he want that beef, I'ma aim at his fitted
Said he slid on my block, old dude
He must be kidding
This straight off the head but
They think that this written
I do this for my niggas locked in the prison
Don't fuck with these niggas
They act just like bitches
I'm out every day on my grind on a mission
I know that these niggas hope I fall
They wishin'
Grippin' on my side, no not no extension
He gon' get knocked off just
For all that dissin'
Just like some hot sauce
You know that I'm drippin'
OG's, they know that I'm crippin'
Couple months ago I was locked
Down 'hind the fences
Money over bitches, gotta mind my business
Had to stay down and I had to pay attention
Look at my life, you could write thirty books
This shit so real, never needed a hook
I'm independent, this one for the books
None of these labels ain't give me a look
Look at my life, you could write thirty books
This shit so real, never needed a hook
I'm independent, this one for the books
None of these labels ain't give me a look
WRITERS
ALEX PETIT, ANTHONY PETIT, TYQUIAN BOWMAN
PUBLISHERS
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Songtrust Ave, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
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