Prophet the Artist - Timed It Lyrics

We got the city in tune knew It was coming like I timed it
Whatever you call it the breesh the blue’s bitch thats where my mind is
Chip on my shoulder I pop shit
When its all over gotta be top 10
Feature wit me thats a hot 10 gllttt
We want the money the cars the clothes we never had shit
Fuck all the hoes they to mixy for me just give me one bad bitch
get to that cash quick
Cant come to my city wit none of that they gotta tap in

Make room for us nigga we locked in
Try us somebody getting dropped quick
They here a boom they like who got the knocks in
She want a check she dont want plane jane she want something to brag in
Caught who nigga try play like he dumb he get turned to a pack then
Chasing it bitch I be chasing the check got me feeling like pacman
Heater tucked under the moncler
Please do not die for a jacket
Cant go I see the future to clear to get left inna past tense
They cap
On crip they be going for clout don’t believe all the rap shit
Get to uh get the breesh
Dont worry bout what niggas say in these streets
The check onna leash cause I cant let no nigga take it from me
If he try ima make me a movie
I aint to hollywood im from the block ima stomp nigga out in my gucci’s
Im onna the level
Bitch im the youngest charge keep it wit me for the fucking trouble
They wanna sign me I want it all nothing less tell em make it double
Burry the money and lose the shovel
Fuck the haters I know that I gotta couple
50k inside the prada duffle
I aint have nothing
I aint have shit had to chase a bag
Im in first bitch I came a long way from last
They see you up its gone make em mad
Fuck it
She took a pull thought I laced the pack
Lil bitch you aint use to no zaza
Tell me who got the city my guys