Delving into the raw and unapologetic world of street life, this track offers a gritty narrative of survival, hustle, and the relentless pursuit of wealth. The 'white girl' metaphor represents cocaine, indicating their involvement in drug dealing. The phrase "15th and the 1st" likely refers to welfare check distribution dates, symbolizing how deeply ingrained they are in the struggle. The lyrics depict their lavish lifestyle funded by illicit activities: expensive cars, flashy jewelry, and abundant money. However, they also highlight the darker aspects – violence ("shooting at cops"), threats ("my homeboys will get you"), and rivalry ("niggas screaming they want beef"). This song is essentially a testament to their resilience amidst adversity and a declaration of their dominance in the game - asserting that anyone who crosses them or challenges their status will face dire consequences.
15th and the 1st
Lyrics
It's a white girl in town: name is "cocaine"
It's some dirty birds in town: Gucci Mane and Waka Flame
We flying, we buying, say you got more bird? You lying
You trying and lying, you boys ain't supplying
I pitch like Nolan Ryan, got cocaina flying
My partners sick up kids, they take what they gon tie in
In the bushes they lying, ain't lying that's my word
By the end of the month, they left with them birds
Zoned off that purp, I'm slurring my words
I swerve in my Benz, baby, my 40s on the curb
The lean, the herb, pay me like the 1st
Cross Brick Squad, get hurt. I got work, Gucci!
[Chorus]
My homeboys will get you, pay you on the 33rd
Two pints of lean'll have me slurring on my words
Undertaker car, triple black drop bird
Stomach full of money, so hundreds I'mma burp
All the hoods love us like the 15th and the 1st
Two pints of lean'll have me slurring on my words
Undertaker car, triple black drop bird
Stomach full of money, so hundreds I'mma burp
? heat shot
? gonna get your bed drop, nigga
Triple red drop, bouncing through the parking lot
Where I'm from, young niggas shooting at the cops
Where I'm from, they faking
My hood right side, nigga, green flagging
Lay your ass down if you do too much bragging
3 case, 4 Glocks, nigga that's swagging
?
[Chorus]
Half a million dollar jewelry like "fuck that bird!"
Niggas screaming they want beef, I'm like "roger that!"
My album didn't sell, so I'm laying niggas down
Shooting every nigga that burns, sleeps or fuckin' frowns
40 carats on my bracelet, my Polo black
Niggas talking like they won't be wanting that
7 grams in this Swisher, I'm gon solo that
Riding around with my strap like "where they at?"
All these rap niggas hold us ?
You will never be a legend like the Gucci Man
You will never be taped up like my partner Flock
Writer(s): JOSHUA LUELLEN, JUAQUIN MALPHURS, LAMAR JOSEPH, RADRIC DAVIS, RADRIC DELANTIC DAVIS
Copyright(s): Lyrics © The Administration MP, Inc., Spirit Music Group, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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