Burnin' Checks
Burnin' Checks

The Game ft. Fivio Foreign - Burnin' Checks Lyrics

4

Burnin' Checks Lyrics

Everybody from New York, rappin' about my Adidas
And my chain, this, and this, and South Bronx and everything
I wanted to put my city on the map

Ayo, Peso, what these niggas want from me?
(Ha, it's Fivi')
Drillmatic mean all them small-ass handguns goin' to hibernation
(Let's do it)
(Drill 'em, drill 'em)

Straight out the coast, right by the ocean
We wet 'em up, niggas is soakin'
We in them 'Rari's, them bitches is floatin'
Know they can see us with the top open
To an exhaust, show 'em what smoke is
I make the call, killers in motion
We leave 'em raw like dinner at Nobu
He don't want no beef, he only eat Tofu
Antisocial, the Drac' gon' talk, I don't speak to you
Pull up on the side of the car, just to see him shoot
Where them niggas that be with you, air out your vehicle
We ain't them niggas you hide from
Hit 'em in a knee and the thigh ones
Turn a six-five nigga, five-one
We got them opp packs, we roll up and smoke 'em to God Son
We burn up the mash, the gloves, the clothes, and raise hell 'til God come
I'm the live one (the live one)
I'm the one that keep it lit
I'm the one that she'll remember, you the one they gon' forget

We ain't them niggas they thought that we was
We them real niggas that they said that they was
Gloves, mask, burner, check
Drugs, money, murder, sex
We ain't them niggas they thought that we was
We them real niggas that they said that they was
Gloves, mask, burner, check
Drugs, money, murder, sex

If I said I'm the king of New York, you'd be mad?
If I said I'm the king of L.A., you'd be mad?
Nigga at, told him, "Don't even ask"
Can a dead body jump out of a bag?
No monitor strapped on my ankle
I'm back in the city and I can't believe this shit
Got the biggest, baddest bitch in New York
Her name Liberty, I came to see the bitch
Still on that Seeter shit, red cap
Smokin' the clouds, head back
If you ain't been stepped on
In a clean ass pair of 1995 Air Max, dead that
He came to his senses
We walk in the club, it ain't for attention
Nigga tried to get me a free G-Wagon
I told him, "Fuck that, free Jimmy Henchman"
Fuck out my mentions, fuck all that talkin'
Come for the attention, we in them Benz's
Tunnel vision, even though the tunnel missin'
Me and this Nip' tat, we in the trenches

They only call me for emergencies (they only call me for emergencies)
Of course, I can get him hit (baow)
But I wanna do it myself and it's burnin' me (baow)
Huh, yeah, nigga, the nerve of me (nigga, the nerve of me)
'Cause I'm too rich (I'm too rich), but I still wanna do the hit (grr)
Yeah, nigga, my gun is gettin' grown (gun is gettin' grown)
I shoot a nigga on his own (on his own)
Try to leave it in the house (what?)
But the shit don't wanna stay home (nah)
She give me everything she own (ha), plus more (plus more)
It's only me on the mountain of Rushmore (it's only me on the mountain, ah)
When I stab 'em, they gush more (boom, boom, boom)
Yeah, hey, give me a rush more (give me a rush more)
Huh, look, they copyin', it's too many of me (uh)
Huh, I been in these streets (yeah)
Nigga (nigga), I got rich off of havin' beef (baow)
I make 'em kill everything they see (uh)
I just blew blood on this concrete, pussy (huh)
I dare a nigga, try to harm me
If I said I'm the king of L.A., you'd be mad?
(If I said I'm the king of L.A., you'd be mad?)
Grrt, twistin' my fingers and holdin' my flag (baow, boom)
Yeah, I said I'm the king of New York, that's a fact (New York my city, nigga)
When I'm in the city, the city don't know how to act (nah, huh)
Yeah (when I'm in the city, the city don't now how to act)
But when they call me king, it get me gassed
When they promote a opp, it get me mad
And when they catch a score, it get me sad
But when we get 'em back, it get me glad, uh
Real different (baow, baow, baow), he got bullets in him
(I see an opp and I'm hittin' a button, drill 'em)
If he survive, he gon' still feel it (ha, woo, boom)

We ain't them niggas they thought that we was (nah)
We them real niggas that they said that they was (it's Fivi', grrt)
Gloves, mask, burner, check (baow, baow, baow)
Drugs, money, murder, sex (boom)
We ain't them niggas they thought that we was (nah)
We them real niggas that they said that they was (yeah, grrt)
Gloves, mask, burner, check (baow, baow, baow, baow)
Drugs, money, murder, sex

Clap for him, he made it to heaven
Clap for him, he made it to heaven
Checks
Checks
King of the drill

Writer(s): Jayceon Taylor
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

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