Lyrics
My city it get cold
Supreme coats in November
Supreme on my drawers
Supreme Timbs for the winter
Put me on the plate, bases loaded
Ninth inning my granddaddy a pastor
Whole life I've been sinning
Apple Pay for lean
I done went over the limit
Retired from the mall
I ain't been there in a minute
I just took a pill
I can feel that bitch kickin'
I live like GTA, gettin' payed for a mission
He bout to kill himself
You smoke crack don't you?
No shoe strings, you tote macs don't you?
My brother keep, but no tax on it
I'm in Amiri jeans, sipping act like Corona
You can't chill in the trap, that's the K
Boy you sitting on it you can have these lil
Thots, fucked em' all, i can't get no more
You can come to my closet and shop
It's like different stores
Quiet like Kawhi but he shooting
Like that nigga Jordan
Boy, you so fuckin' broke it's
Like you gettin' younger the hoe
She too young for me DaeMoney
Still don't want her my heart
That mufucka' cold and it's getting worse
But me
The mufuckin' goat I'm just getting goater
I'm a walking
Talking comma I can get her over
Took his bitch, it's been some weeks that
Nigga livin' lonely
We done paralyzed his man
They call that nigga soldier shot his ass
So much brown it's like living color
She could have caught a case
I was in high school hitting mothers
Bitch I'm one of one
Once I'm done you won't get another
A real Bronx tale
I was raised by my fuckin' uncles
Eight years old shooting dice
I made my first hunnid'
I can tell you niggas broke
Thats your first money
That shit you lil' niggas flash
That's my perc money
That shit you stashin' that's my put
It in her purse money
You don't know jewelry
Boy them stones ain't worth nothin'
I was seven grabbin' ass in the hallway
Fresh as hell
Wearin' Balmains to the ballgame
Put a switch on yo head
Hit everything without aim
Niggas done really had money
Fore' I had fame
Chrome heart druggie, twenty days straight
Take it to the shoe box
A hunnid' plays straight
Niggas uppin' throwbacks, tryna save face
The table long as hell
Bitch my whole team sayin' grace
She say I'm annoying
I keep asking "Where the wock at?"
I'm still on the 30's and I'm
Itchin' "Where the Glock at?"
I just scared a good hoe away
I need to stop that
You everywhere I'm not at
I'm turnin' off a pot nap
We just put my new bitch on the road
I got a opp ass
AMG left him straight, cause he a copycat
I just scared a good hoe away
I need to stop that
Sister gave me fifty for a show
Can't even talk back
WRITERS
MARTAIN PARKER
PUBLISHERS
Lyrics © Songtrust Ave
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