Brrt
Look, Crete
Mm, hm
Same nigga breakin' down hoes left and right (yeah)
I was countin' up a M on a private flight (yeah)
All this Chrome on my body like a medieval knight (hmm)
I was fuckin' up a sack on that purple Sprite (yeah)
All my bitches been official, even tote a pistol (yeah)
Even blow it like a whistle (yeah), lie to officials (yeah)
I'll drip you down in crystals if I know you're real (mwah)
How you geekin' out your body off a pink pill?
I caught you lyin', tell me and I'll fuck with you still (damn)
It so many properties I bought, I'm king of the hill
Fuck nigga need to learn his place, 'fore we put 'em in it (yeah)
Steppin' and swaggin', I'm runnin' shit, I might run for senate (huh)
I got a bitch up in the kitchen, wearin' them coochie cutters (yeah)
Free my doggy out that cell, straight up out the gutter (sweet)
Been them niggas ever since the position needed fillin'
And I fear I didn't see it, it was just me and Dylan
You see, it was just me and Justin (drive)
Grippin' her hair while she top me, might give her a concussion (yeah)
I don't like discussions (damn), I'm too rich for fussin' (exactly)
Look her dead in her eyes and have that pussy bustin' (yeah)
I ain't ever cuffin' (yeah)
In my corner baby dog, he psyched out, still (yeah)
Your baby daddy broke, no need for him to write a will (yeah)
I put paint on my nails, bitches fuckin' still (still)
It's old money in my bank that I'm spendin' still (yeah)
Lifestyle shit get twisted, I been livin' shady (creep)
I been beatin' up that sack like I'm Devin Haney (beat it)
I don't need a rock friend, I'ma step solo (facts)
I try anything once, the lifestyle YOLO
I don't wanna be posted on the blogs, I don't wanna answer calls
I did this shit for my dawgs, I just beat up the mall
I just beat up my wrist, I was duckin' IRS
I was takin' that risk, I was takin' that bitch
I was flyin' Air Drake, so I was takin' that switch (brrt)
Bitch, yeah
They gave me M's at eighteen, ain't know what to do (yeah)
I fuck a sack up at a jeweler, I was goin' stupid (oh)
Fell in love with a teller, I don't know cupid
Gotta tell my stepper "No'," 'cause he'll really do it (brrt)
Anywhere, everywhere, he don't give a damn
Empty the clip, reload the clip, we call it sleight of hand (yeah)
My memory bad, so I'm fuckin baby on cam' (mhm)
Bottega coat, I copped, R.I.P to couple M's (yeah)
That boy is not a kingpin, he sold a couple grams
He ain't no gangster, grew up better than Adonis Graham
It's us
Writer(s): Miles Parks Mccollum, Max Rafael, Deshawn Jackson
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
