| Yeah
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| Coz, what up?
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| Yeah
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| Oh, we gon' bring it back to that Weekend at Bernie’s vibe
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| This old school, man, 2009 shit
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| Ayy, keep your eyes out my pockets, beggars make me sick
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| That boy lost in the bottle, can’t control his own clique
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| Boy, I’m mainy with a clean 380, I won’t miss
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| Yeah, Biscotti’s played out, I’d rather smoke Cheetah Piss
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| European whips but my bucket ride smoother
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| In a car full of shooters, paranoid while I maneuver
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| Your bitch look good but all the homies ran through her
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| Pass the big homie up, used to treat me like a loser, wow
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| This the sound your favorite artist run from
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| The real shit for the slum, rub the dope on my gums
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| A-1 pink coke in a mink coat
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| I couldn’t be broke, I’m burning clean smoke
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| Trust me, they don’t love me, they just wanna see me fall
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| But it’s like I hit a lick every single fall
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| Outdoor dips, greenhouse boomin'
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| The whole block smell when my shit start bloomin'
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| Seven acres had my whole team eatin'
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| 'Til the shit got popped, he was sendin' work to Cleveland
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| I tried to tell the homies keep it on the low
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| When the money come, everybody know
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| We out of state with them packs again, still trafficking
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| Big rigs on the road, gettin' to that cash again
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| Six figure trips, I don’t know if I’ma need rap again
|
| 'Til I’m in the lab smokin' big with Nip and Jack again
|
| We out of state with them packs again, still trafficking
|
| Big rigs on the road, gettin' to that cash again
|
| Six figure trips, I don’t know if I’ma need rap again
|
| 'Til I’m in the lab smokin' big with Nip and Jack again
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| I’m a street survivalist, been on the grind for this
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| When it come to the fam, ain’t no question, I’ll die for this
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| Back when I was broke, shit, they laughed in my face
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| So I started young, stackin' my cake, trafficking weight
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| In the presence of legends, I felt blessed since my adolescence
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| Knew my time’d come one day, I always had the essence
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| In the Maybach, foggy from the Cubano smoke
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| Born to be rich, how I’ma wake up tomorrow broke?
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| Mind on a franchise, close friends lost ties
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| 'Cause all the love’s lost once you cross sides
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| Got respect for the game, 'cause I came from it
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| But traumatized and can’t explain the pain from it
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| There was days I was down, I felt my hopes slipping
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| Now I got my own vision and my approach different
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| Dope by the boat, Pacino and El Chivo
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| Fuck a job, where I’m from you either rap or sell kilos
|
| We out of state with them packs again, still trafficking
|
| Big rigs on the road, gettin' to that cash again
|
| Six figure trips, I don’t know if I’ma need rap again
|
| 'Til I’m in the lab smokin' big with Nip and Jack again
|
| We out of state with them packs again, still trafficking
|
| Big rigs on the road, gettin' to that cash again
|
| Six figure trips, I don’t know if I’ma need rap again
|
| 'Til I’m in the lab smokin' big with Nip and Jack again |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song 6 Figure Trips , by - Berner. Song from the album El Chivo, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп