P.A.D (Pistols At Dawn)
Lyrics
Not anyone can measure my success
Or the vision I possess, I'm possessed, I'm obsessed
I detest, money make them love you more
That don't mean they hate you less
They pray for my arrest, my unrest
For the set I'm doin' super sets
Snitch or not, we shoot for less
Make your family move address
I'm still in the neighborhood
This AP face got blue baguettes, my Rolex face is ruby red
I come from the mud but still somehow I just ooze success
Custom Cuban links and umbrellas in my drinks
Nanny used to wash my boxers in the sink, what'd you think?
I got money now, why let 'em live?
I don't know, I don't love her, but I got a couple track suits at her crib
I ain't trying to be the person taking way more than I give
In your life, you can't double cross me twice in your life
You won't live to tell the story I put lives on the line every time
I said life's on the line every time
Smoking rapper weed, ridin' 'round London with my pistol
Touch me and you'll find about my killers that was wishful
Every day up before I leave it's like a ritual
Heard they slammed him out or heard they did that boy abysmal
Show me to the dough, I'm diving in just like a swimming pool
Women think I'm charming but I'm really so despicable
I was raised by Nanny in the trenches I ain't typical
In the car on phone just keep it talking to a minimum
Yeah
Uh
Straight conceited, I complete it every obstacle but they just cheated
They so greedy they just try to take my take and eat it
I'm like take it or just leave it but they just need it
Yeah, I really love to meet him but I stay competing
They was heavy on them numbers but they depleted
If it's under couple million I can't take the meetin'
Got a hold of all these deals, and I made 'em beat it
Yeah, say good evening, watchin' for them agents
Niggas hate, yeah, we got the game outrageous
That explains us, I keep my bitches private, fuck the pictures
I could make her famous, so persuasive, she used to be my favorite
Why it weighs but we just couldn't sustain it
That was cool and I'm different, not just saying it
And she cools, just my entertaining, that's entertainment
In love with the creator, it's that estate shit, it made me an array
Oh, you're wide awake 'cause you played with Potter's paper
Life's a bitch but that dodgy nigga snaked her
He's a traitor, I said I have thoughts about my man
We should've just dealt with that my way
You only just dissed me last weekend
My niggas just stamped him out Friday
In that vicinity
Hundred soldiers that kicked him up infinity
It's a chess game and you just threw your king at me
I'm too grown to gazette in my proximity
He went and did it again, didn't he?
Idiots, that's liberties
Who that verbal abuse they threw shit at me
And hollow came with them boots, you ain't kicking me, just get at me
Writer(s): Jamel Bousbaa, Jason Neville Thompson, Louis Egyin-Buadu
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Downtown Music Publishing, Peermusic Publishing
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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