Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Cadillac Pt. 2, artist - Caskey. Date of issue: 12.10.2023
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Cadillac Pt. 2 |
| I’m just a product of my habitat |
| 808s bumpin thru these Cadillacs |
| Taking steps back we ain’t havin that |
| Mo money mo problems |
| Id rather that |
| My homie from the west side pick me up |
| They said wed never make it |
| Had to laugh at that |
| My city screaming «let's ride live it up» |
| We richer than we ever been imagine that |
| Haters they mad |
| Cause I’m young and I’m rich and I’m handsome |
| Four cars |
| Three different locks on the mansion |
| Two different ways that I go take a ransom |
| One rapper at the top |
| His name is Brandon |
| This shit was gods plan |
| So devilish ways I can not stand |
| Man a hand out is something I never been handed |
| This shit like yellowstone |
| The way that black sheep was branded |
| I never take stands |
| Id rather take life |
| And not say a word like a made man |
| You online flexing them fake bands |
| Probably switch on your homie for 8 grand |
| Different league this a whole different caliber |
| 69 Cadillac |
| This not a challenger |
| Took all my business legit |
| Before that was selling them 30s |
| Like dates on a calendar |
| Please |
| Miss me with all of that talk |
| About you got the juice |
| Before I give that trigger a squeeze |
| Got so much bread |
| That I could buy your catalog |
| Make sure that unreleased don’t get released |
| Felony turned to a misdeme |
| Where I come from that’s called a victory |
| My sis was a dealer |
| My dad was a killer |
| So killing a rapper ain’t shit to me |
| I’m just a product of my habitat |
| 808s bumpin thru these Cadillacs |
| Taking steps back we ain’t havin that |
| Mo money mo problems |
| Id rather that |
| My homie from the west side pick me up |
| They said wed never make it |
| Had to laugh at that |
| My city screaming «let's ride live it up» |
| We richer than we ever been imagine that |
| Poppin them tags on designer |
| I pop at a rapper |
| And give his ass one more reminder |
| Pop up outside of your house in all black |
| Like them days I was riding around in that Honda |
| Popping champagne at the bank |
| Cause the wire went through |
| And we never seen that many commas |
| Catch me a charge and I call up my lawyer |
| I pop up one finger |
| Aimed right at your honor |
| The death came before the dishonor |
| Show me respect |
| Or your homies gone be out here reppin a gonner |
| I done got too many checks |
| Man I might go and cop me a crib in del ray |
| Like I’m Lana |
| The suite presidential I feel like Obama |
| I promise no chinks in my armor |
| Irish and giving that smoke out to whoever want it |
| I fucked around turned into Connor |
| Double heavyweight titles |
| They ain’t show me no love |
| Now I’m making targets out my idols |
| If they crossing my path |
| You gone need to check on they vitals |
| And give them a bible |
| This here a wave you can’t ride cause its tidal |
| I’m rockin the stage and it ain’t no recital |
| American psycho |
| Bodies inside of the caddy |
| Or on back of my motorcycle |
| I’m just a product of my habitat |
| 808s bumpin thru these Cadillacs |
| Taking steps back we ain’t havin that |
| Mo money mo problems |
| Id rather that |
| My homie from the west side pick me up |
| They said wed never make it |
| Had to laugh at that |
| My city screaming «let's ride live it up» |
| We richer than we ever been imagine that |