Something
Lyrics
2012 I started gettin' money, I was like sixteen goin' on seventeen
Fifty in my face I could go touch
That was an important period in my life 'cause it made me what I am now
I was just havin' fun, gettin' fresh every day, ha
I looked up, I spent that shit
Look I won a race, a hunnid miles and runnin'
They was stoppin', I ain't jog or nothin'
I ain't lag or nothin'
I was twenty laps ahead of y'all, I ain't brag or nothin'
Gang rootin', under pressure, I ain't let them down or nothin'
Everybody got they cameras, hand me a towel or somethin'
All my hard work, all them days in
Y'all know where I started
All them late nights goin' retarded
Runnin' with the wildest youngins
Smellin' like a thousand onions
Damn that shit don't count for nothin'
When I told 'em I was comin'
They just thought that was I bluffin'
Now my fans out overseas pay me twenty thou' to touch 'em
Pretty ladies, yeah, I love 'em
Come backstage, they let me fuck 'em
Free of charge don't owe her nothin'
I was rushin', I was gettin' ready
Made her hold my luggage
Met her once, she let me fuck her twice
She know I might fuck up her life
Too lit to have a fuckin' wife
She fine enough to wife tonight, so fuck it
She can board her flight
Love Ruth Chris might get her somethin' to go, I guess I'm sorta nice
Never been on dates, I risked my life
She see me blowin' this pipe
Baby I'm not regular, no I'm not your average dude
I grew up a hard knock, that's not up my avenue
Gotta move somethin' like the president
Can't leave no trace or evidence
Or location, if I'm there too long I gotta move
Fuck it, you just stay right here 'cause I don't like your attitude
Big G Herbo, don't leave the G out when you say Herbo
Never leave the G out
G-lock on me every day I leave out
Only way I be out, niggas know what we 'bout
Condos downtown, cribs in the suburbs, finna cop a beach house
Gold on everywhere, foreign whips everywhere, pull up skeet out
And I got more comin', got another tape droppin'
Got another tour comin', yeah I made more money
Finna do more stuntin', one-twenty lane switchin', still ain't push the sports button
Back to the program, niggas hatin' but they whores love me
Still gettin' tour money
Fifteen for a sixteen so, yeah, it mean an eight like four-somethin'
Put a couple little racks in the old school but it still ain't runnin' like the Porsche runnin'
Remember yellin', "4-7," with the torch runnin'
Hittin' cuts on the opps block
Lakeside, Pistol run up on the porch gunnin'
All my niggas all about money
In the middle of the war hustlin'
Hustle homies and you know it touch us
Shut the whole block down, no more hustlin'
Start all the wheels up, load the steel up
Everybody on the team tryna score somethin'
Flat on the rah-rah, they on high-high, rolled up out in traffic, drop a four or somethin'
Yeah, them killers like Jon-Jon
But we ain't goin' out sweet, no, cops dyin'
That means ain't no cops killin' us
Ain't no opps killin' us
Some say I might sound cocky
Some say I might sound scary
But I know that I'm gon' get home where I'm from that's slim chance very
Where I'm from shit get scary, niggas get buried
Ridin' up on your block, Bloody Mary
Don't you double dare me
I'm from the Eastside of Chicago
I'm Gucci where I go
Niggas know me where I go
I'm an OG where I go
You can't help what you born with
But it's on you if you die broke
If I die before I wake
Have a party when I go
Twenty Rollies in a Rolls 'fore I wake before I go
Mama okay, yeah, I know
Writer(s): Don Jarmel Paschall, Herbert Randall Wright
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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