| Rain on the Phantom windshield, tears when the friends kill
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| How that shit feel? |
| You not equipped for the field
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| And they smell fear, clouds darken as they draw near
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| How’d you get here shit, like a shitty record deal
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| Pulled up on factory wheels with the racing gear
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| I could make a million appear, no back and forth
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| With a boss who could have you brought up in the trunk of a car
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| At that point it’s past talk, so you should leave it in park
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| That’s way more smart, Andretti, I put years into this art
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| You cannot compare me, went from hood rich to wealthy
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| A pandemic outside, I’m tryna stay healthy, God help me
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| I’m dope as fuck, they hassle me in airports 'cause dogs smell me
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| Y’all sketchy, that’s why y’all can’t catch me, try to text me
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| Five Chevys front the house, I’m inside smoked out
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| With some NBA socks on 'cause a nigga ballin', huh
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| Threw me in the hole, put on hella gold and then I crawled out
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| Brung them cars out, turned some broads out
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| Underground superstars, now, bitch, what you talkin' 'bout?
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| I put the homies in position to get millions
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| Pray to D’Ussé every year I get a new Bentley, thumbing through Benjis
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| Rose gold Forgis lookin' like the largest pennies underneath the foreign
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| Success make you a target in my city
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| I’m never sleepin', but I dream big
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| As a teen I watched MTV Cribs
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| Jermaine Dupri had the Continental T in the garage
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| And said you ain’t a big dog unless you got one of these, yeah
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| And now I’m driving precision because now I’m that nigga
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| Some of my cars self-park, but I don’t trust it
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| All them funky bitches who think they smart play Mario Kart with they hearts
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| See a OG nod slow, I’ll low-key tear you apart
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| Simple as pimpin' the pen and throwin' the motherfuckin' thought
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| Never missing my mark
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| Game-winner from the three point arc
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| A dozen Lamborghinis send 'em in a panic
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| It was madness like March, the watch froze
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| My watch is in the vault, too icy need, need to thaw out
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| Yeah
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| Chevys on switches, baby
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| Smoke weed in it, post it in your pictures
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| Hittin' switches on Chef Highway, dippin'
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| Yeah |