FR
4

FR Lyrics

(JJ, what you tellin' me fam'?)
Mhm (Hal made it special)
Yo, though
Yo, I'm in and out them thots, for real
They're sayin' that I'm hot, for real
For real
Uh

Yo, I'm in and out them thots, for real
They're sayin' that I'm hot, for real
Last year I signed a deal, but I'm still on my block, for real
Yeah, they stabbed bro, but then somethin' got shot, for real
Lupes said when he's home, he's back 'round the pot, for real
Cash only smokes weed, he ain't into poppin' pills
But, when it's beef, know he's down to get it poppin' still
She don't wanna talk to me, she just wanna fuck, for real
I listen to your songs, and you don't do that stuff, for real

Sorry if we done it then I aired you for weeks
I got bigger fish to fry like airin' them neeks
Give it time, she'll come runnin' back, I'll clear the receipts
We used to serve to her mum and dad, her parents were feinds
And, I made my first song, then I turned my block Tenerife
Crash soon home, I can't wait 'til they set him free
Dimmer pulled me over to the side, he said, "The little one"
Said he's on murderin', he ain't even seventeen
Why you all actin' like you know me?
Give me just a pokey, let me see a opp, now, he's holy
I'll do it for my dargy, or homie
She wanna go Bali, my young niggas wanna go Stokey
Let her keep the bread, you don't owe me
Go pay your bills
Or, put that towards for you Rollie
If I get the drop, then I'm rollin'
Nowadays, I get the best yacht from Instagram, scrollin'
From young, Keekz was out tryna shave his skin
Them times, they used to compare Sterling to Chamberlin
He chose the wrong side of the Six
And, even though he ain't done shit
Don't get it twist, I rate his thing
I'm buyin' things
If I didn't do it, I assist the work
My words ain't cheap, they offer racks for a little verse
She asked me to suck her feet, she must think I'm Lil Durk
K used to Connie me show me how the glizzy works
I watched no one poke broski, them niggas lyin'
Hear them call my name in them songs, I guess them niggas tryin'
First tape, dead bread, second one, them figures flyin'
Hoes that need linkage, you'll see a thousand bitches flyin'
Get a square of any colour for the lo'
My head's always hot, but my left wrist is cold
Fucked her first time seein' her don't make her a hoe
If I fling it on my nigga and she fucks, then it's sold
The dotty might here and there, rust cuh it's old
If one of mine get nicked, I won't trust them to fold
I miss the days where I had to be home by ten
It's ten-thirty, I know I'm gettin' cussed when I'm home
She got talent, you should see the way she sucks on my bone
If you're talkin' 'bout guns, I put 'nough in my zone
If you're talkin' 'bout hoes, I put 'nough in my bed
Crash tryna get domes, he ain't fussed for your legs

Yo, I'm in and out them thots, for real
They're sayin' that I'm hot, for real
Last year I signed a deal, but I'm still on my block, for real
Yeah, they stabbed bro, but then somethin' got shot, for real
Lupes said when he's home, he's back 'round the pot, for real
Cash only smokes weed, he ain't into poppin' pills
Nah he ain't into poppin' pills
She don't wanna talk to me, she just wanna fuck, for real
I listen to your songs, and you don't do that stuff, for real

Writer(s): Cian Wright
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

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