What You See
Lyrics
Ayoo Salute to the Streets
We do this for the mother fucking streets
Ayoo Chinx, A pleasure my nigga
Salute to you for blessing, the streets nigga
The Traps some music for some real niggas
Its that CR4 (Cocaine Riot 4)
This shit right here forever
This Shit legendary
And The DJ Scream said that nigga!
When you staring at a barrel
Of a nine millimeter what you see?
Twenty pointers in the chain
How these niggas acting like they don't see?
When you staring in the eyes
Of a young drug dealer
What you see? (Tell Me what you see)
From the projects to the television
Nigga that's something you could see
Nigga talking tunnel vision (green light)
Nigga had a better vision
Death threats on a nigga life, well then
We gon' see nigga talking tunnel vision
Nigga had a better vision
Death threats on a nigga life, well then
We gon' see
Coke Boy, A$AP
Never hit yah bitch without a Latex
Run up on me
Dead pussy nigga, know I stay strapped
Niggas know me
Talking bout the bread, nigga take that
(what) youngest, OG
Real Trap nigga never fake that
Fuck a nigga talkin' we don't play that
Aye Ferg tell em' how my money Asap
Them niggas play it like a 8 track
Choppin' work up on the plate
Yeah I scrape that
Hate to see a young nigga do it
Stacking up the money like I'm Jewish
Use to move the work up in the buick
Now niggas spending money like I grew it boy
Pull up in the mint two seater
Nigga don't front look bitch you see it
Roll up to the front all the hoes want in
Fuck a nigga bitch, kick her out
Who need her? Got the party jumping when the
Record hit the needle
Fans going crazy like I came with the Beetles
Young nigga only hit the pussy if it's legal
The bread make the ends I'll
Be coming through the speaker
Fergy, Chinxy
You gon have to put this shit on repeat
Coke Bwoy, A$AP
Bitch get kinky in the Maybach
(S-Sq-Sq-Squaad)
Alright Harlem, All my niggas that bout it
I be Trap Lord and
Shit gone get lit when I finish recording
God Damn I am awesome
Put you in the creek like Dawson
You blink I hit em with Harlem
You speak it, you sleep in the coffin
Yo momma I'm calling
I'm giving out late abortions
You know I'm not lying
I kill em, my flow is extortion
No feature, I'm muting your talkin
(talkin) , talking back to New York and
Passed me the torch and
He told me little nigga you scorching
You spit like a goblin
Never stop, keep the ball rolling
I'm keeping it rolling
That's why my pockets is swollen
And my momma eyes is so swollen
Ma please wipe yo eyes
I'm busy hugging, consoling
We hardly can talk on the phone
Because I'm on the rise
I'm busy getting that dough and
So I can get her a new home and
Yeah she'll be surprised
Writer(s): Darold Durard Brown, Navraj Goraya, Rex Kudo, Ryan Vojtesak
Copyright(s): Lyrics © BMG Rights Management, Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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