Nafe Smallz - Riding On E Lyrics

Just listen
Woo

I'm smokin' somethin' strong on the East with my niggas
I remember ridin' on E with my niggas
Trappin', no sleep, tryna eat with my niggas
Now I step into the club, she wanna leave with my niggas
Gang, gang, yeah, it's a gang ting
But if we on a mission, then it's prolly just three of my niggas
I been on the paper chase, straight no days off
Dreamin' but I ain't been sleep in a minute
I'm knee-deep in it, yeah
Fuckin' let me breathe for a minute
Cah the air ain't clean where I'm livin'
I can smell the demons in it
So I'm rollin' in the deep end with it
You know I ain't catchin' no feelings, yeah
That love be the killer, yeah
Me, I'm tryna be the next millionaire
Then the next billionaire
I got my killies that will kill in here
Ain't a thing to find out where you livin', yeah
Whenever the script gets flipped and the tables get turned
You don't wanna cross me when your bridges get burned
I been with the same niggas in the same farm
Smokin' Mary J, I'ma let the J burn
Then I let the tray burn, we don't fuck with Satan
I been on the mission since I been awakened
Still I can't send it, can't hit the station
Gotta keep it blatant, runnin' out of patience
You know

Still I'm runnin' outta patience
Still I'm runnin' outta patience
We done made it out the basement
But we ain't made it out the pavements
So I'm stayin' with the stainless
Bet this bullet leave you brainless
In these streets, you gotta say less
Runnin' with the same friends
Gettin' money out the same ends
In this beef, I never make amends

Band, always tryna get the upper hand on me
Don't they know I do this for the gang?
Talkin' 'bout that money, it's more than a couple grand
I'm a real top boy, I don't do it for the 'Gram
Grow up on the block, drug dealin' on the scram
Thug was 13, bust an AC, no Milan
Young niggas tryna get rich off a scam
Goin' jail, that was never part of the plan, no
Youngin' tryna get it, early bird get the worm
Holes in my trackies, but them birds had to turn
Breakin' all the laws, get a bird, fuck the sun
And see how many niggas gon' fuck your bird from your fam
I was in the trap puttin' all them herbs on the can
Got into this rap, now it's verse after verse
All this fame shit, it really be a gift and a curse
Can't slip when they lurk, keep a grip on your

If we do this right, bruv
We're back on top
No more of that fuckin' around on the street corners sellin' shit