Weeks
Weeks

Kevin Gates - Weeks Lyrics

Oct 29, 2020
11
Weeks Music Video

Weeks Lyrics

I ain't took my chains off in weeks (off in weeks)
If I tuck it, they gon' try to kill me anyway
Then I'm prayin' to the God of the streets (God of the streets)
Way too big to be discreet anyway

Hope I fly on the arms of my niggas
Wonder why my heart cold? Nigga soul got the shivers
Baby, I ain't took my chains off in weeks (off in weeks)
Love that shit too big to be discreet (be discreet)

He tried to set me up in Dallas, broke into his own car (hahahaha)
He not knowin' that I'm psychic, and I glow in the dark
Light on us while in Houston, we got throwed in the cross
Sidestepping 'fore he could set me, punch a hole in my heart (ha)
Cold quarantine game, I looked over your flaws
Big God, sellin' raw and I'm controllin' the cops (ugh)
Diamonds on my neck, that's a symbol of success
Run you up check, you gon' die for your respect
Cautious who you entertain, they could be a threat
Out of pocket, pull up brrt on you, leave you somewhere stretched (stretched)
Artificial dealers, all my visions then got clearer
I cross one in the mirror, I'm gon' feel it in my spirit (ooh)

I ain't took my chains off in weeks (off in weeks)
If I tuck it, they gon' try to kill me anyway
Then I'm prayin' to the God of the streets (God of the streets)
Way too big to be discreet anyway

Hope I fly on the arms of my niggas
Wonder why my heart cold? Nigga soul got the shiver
Baby, I ain't took my chains off in weeks (off in weeks)
Love that shit too big to be discreet (be discreet)

G-wag', G-Wag'
Big bag, big bag
C-note, C-note
Brrt-brrt, so much machine smoke
Ooh, only ones that ride on 'side me
Are the ones willin' to die though

Now I keep it underwater (turn up by myself)
Let it breathe
(Turn up by myself) Right there

Just got this brand new thing, rrrah
They did exchange when the shots fired
Reportin' live with the Glock .9 by the Southside
Recordin' live, bitch I'm in the studio right now
In Carolina, you could pull up on me right now (pull up on me right now)
We outside, yeah, ayy
Hol' up, pour up (you dig?)
I glisten hard, my earrings, dawg
This for Mazzi, Rollie, I never take my chain off (chain off)
Never talkin', I give that, already take your brain off (brain off)
Mr. Carti' made it glist', then I wiped it on my wrist (I did)
He be shootin' shots at Brassy
But his posture not like this, bitch

I ain't took my chains off in weeks (off in weeks)
If I tuck it, they gon' try to kill me anyway
Then I'm prayin' to the God of the streets (God of the streets)
Way too big to be discreet anyway

Hope I fly on the arms of my niggas (arms of my niggas)
Wonder why my heart cold? Nigga soul got the shiver
Baby, I ain't took my chains off in weeks (off in weeks)
Love that shit too big to be discreet (be discreet)

G-wag', G-Wag'
Big bag, big bag
C-note, C-note
Brt-brrt, so much machine smoke

G-wag', G-Wag'
Big bag, big bag
C-note, C-note
Brrt-brrt, so much machine smoke

Writer(s): Alexander Izquierdo, Anderson Hernandez, Kevin Gilyard, Matthew Samuels, Zulema Cusseaux
Copyright(s): Lyrics © BMG Rights Management, Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

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