| Bitch, I woke up in designer
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| Bet your bitch be my sponsor
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| Sip codeine, not no Vodka
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| Need some syrup like a wafer
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| IPhone get to booming right
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| Moving packs every single night
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| If they can get it, I can get it twice
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| For the l-ow, shawty, low bricks come over-night
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| Life
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| They ain’t living like I’m living, They just high off a hype
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| They ain’t feeling like I’m feeling, no
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| Catching cases, never feelings
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| Blow your brains out your skull
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| That’s why I call her no ceiling hoe
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| I been counting money all day
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| My plug, he fuck with me the long way
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| Be cool, they ain’t trynna play
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| Bet that AK open up like a hallway
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| Pull Up
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| Swerve
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| Pull Up
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| Serve
|
| Pull Up
|
| Swerve, Swerve
|
| Pull Up
|
| Serve, Serve
|
| Pull up blowing gaudy, let the top back
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| Pull up at your spot, push your wig back
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| Not the type to talk, ain’t with the chit-chat
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| Tell me that you got it, you ain’t with that
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| She say I ain’t paid but I ain’t with the gossip
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| Rather shoot your block up, bullet shells like pasta
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| AK-47, clip like macaroni
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| Never trust a square, them is not your homies
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| I can’t fuck with lames, half you boys jabronis
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| Grew up by my grandma, eating bread, boloney
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| Now I’m grubbing noodles off of this dirty money
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| Took me all this time, You can’t take it from me
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| Wish somebody tried me, leave them wet and bloody
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| I don’t need a mask, want your ass to know me
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| Look me in my eyes, why I kill them softly
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| Bring you back to life, I’m the reapers homie |