| No mistakin me for them, all this Fendi that I’m in
|
| Circle gettin' small, now a dot is all it is
|
| Talkin like she mine, I don’t know why she did
|
| All I got is hundreds usin' em to wipe the tears
|
| All I got is gunners with me, I ain’t got no friends
|
| Hatin' in abundance and I don’t know where it stems
|
| Smokin' on this blunt, hopin' it could the edge off
|
| I just changed my number, hopefully they shake the feds off
|
| Bitch you playin' innocent, I know you got some demons
|
| I just told my gunners pick out what they want at Neiman’s
|
| All I keep is hundreds on me, I can’t fuck with singles
|
| Every time that we come around they look like they single
|
| She know the routine I’m just gone hit it once and leave
|
| Fell out with so many friends I wonder was it me
|
| Fendi on my belt and got the gun tucked underneath
|
| He don’t watch his mouth I’m just gone dump on him and leave
|
| Them boys are so broke ain’t no mistakin' us for them
|
| And they really not mistakes if you don’t make 'em all again
|
| I don’t need too many people, got this thang to call my friend
|
| And some gunners by my side I’m always thanking God for them
|
| No mistakin me for them, all this Fendi that I’m in
|
| Circle gettin' small, now a dot is all it is
|
| Talkin like she mine, I don’t know why she did
|
| All I got is hundreds usin' em to wipe the tears
|
| All I got is gunners with me, I ain’t got no friends
|
| Hatin' in abundance and I don’t know where it stems
|
| Smokin' on this blunt, hopin' it could the edge off
|
| I just changed my number, hopefully they shake the feds off
|
| I quit seein' eye-to-eye with all my broke friends
|
| Then I saw my rich ones take off to go on a coke binge
|
| All that meant to Skizzy and me is we flyin' coach again
|
| 'Til we get that pack off once or twice and all the dope come in
|
| Saw the opp and let my dogs attack 'em like a Doberman
|
| Music wasn’t workin' so we back to sellin' dope again
|
| I quit poppin' pills and doin' blow, I felt more social then
|
| Dirty got that thirty on him, you don’t want no smoke with him
|
| We had all the odds against us and we weren’t supposed to win
|
| We got all the opps against us speakin' up like hoes and shit
|
| Police got behind us in the whip I told her hold the shit
|
| Bankin' all my game, I’m cashin' it in like a poker chip
|
| No mistakin me for them, all this Fendi that I’m in
|
| Circle gettin' small, now a dot is all it is
|
| Talkin like she mine, I don’t know why she did
|
| All I got is hundreds usin' em to wipe the tears
|
| All I got is gunners with me, I ain’t got no friends
|
| Hatin' in abundance and I don’t know where it stems
|
| Smokin' on this blunt, hopin' it could the edge off
|
| I just changed my number, hopefully they shake the feds off |