Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Mirror, artist - G Herbo. Date of issue: 28.09.2017
Song language: English
Mirror |
| Han, ayy look Bibby |
| We gotta take 'em back to what we know man |
| What’s real, that street shit, look |
| I come from where it’s rob or get robbed, kill or be killed |
| The main goal just try and get home like Wrigley Field |
| Shells old, pop out revolvers, they hit him, he still |
| Can’t trust a soul, they act like you owe 'em, don’t hit 'em be still |
| I say I rap shit I really done did, really done lived |
| Every time I step in the booth, I tell 'em the truth |
| Glock forty with the clip, hangin' out the bottom |
| You get faced with all these problems tryna make it from the bottom |
| Hollows pop soon as we spot 'em |
| Spin the block, I think we got 'em |
| Street nigga hustle |
| War that’s all I know, that’s how I’m rockin' |
| Ten thousand in the pipe |
| The size my phone inside my pocket |
| I always cock it, I know niggas plottin' |
| Pray I won’t drop 'em while everybody watching |
| Young nigga all about a profit |
| And I post up on the block with them goblins |
| Lil nigga starvin', lookin' like a target |
| If we see a stain then we gon' rob 'em, ayy |
| I was tryna stack a lil green |
| Go hard for the team, live a young nigga dream |
| I swear these young niggas |
| They’ll probably go crazy if they seen all the shit that I’ve seen |
| Thirty clips, fifty clips, new MAC 11's |
| AK-47's with beams |
| Pull up on your block and straight clear the scene |
| Purposeful, ain’t miss a thing |
| And now we get money, might blow out a beam |
| Used to just hop out the veen |
| Been rocking designer way before a teen |
| Triple OG the brand new miskeen |
| And I just might pull up in that new machine |
| I used to post up like a king |
| Herbo like Magic, I told him to pass it |
| I come with the hook like Kareem |
| You fuckin' with bosses, I can’t take no losses |
| If you double cross me, you better be cautious |
| I’m going crazy, I think I done lost it |
| Talkin' 'bout money then step in my office |
| Pop me a Perc, roll a 'Wood now I’m off it |
| Me and Bibby in L.A. fuckin' the booth up |
| It’s three in the morning |
| And my outfit be always Givenchy and Balmain |
| My belt got Medusas |
| Got your bitch in my whip, gettin off Patron and hookah |
| And pourin' the juice up |
| And my shawty 'nem searchin', they riding with Rugers |
| They ready to shoot somethin' |
| In a Corvette, two gats |
| Ride with the roof back like, «Fuck nigga do somethin'» |
| Bitches see me, go «Who that?» |
| Yeah, big G Herbo, that nigga don’t do that |
| Fuck bitches, get money, already knew that |
| Play with No Limit like play Russian roulette |
| Real nigga drew that, Nino from «New Jack» |
| These Hollywood dudes wanna kick it |
| But I’d rather chill with my niggas |
| I’d rather post up in the trenches |
| I just fit in with the killers |
| I come from where shit’d get serious |
| Niggas be lying on wax, I ain’t feelin' 'em |
| Can’t rap about shit you not livin' it |
| You should not spit the shit, you did not witness it |
| I use to post up with the green |
| Saw all the fiends, smokin' and sniffin' shit |
| Totin' them Glocks with the beams, bro let it ring |
| It boost my adrenaline |
| Niggas be all in they feelings |
| They actin' like bitches, I swear they so feminine |
| Play with my niggas, get burned up |
| Man they be so turnt up like they did some Ritalin |
| Pull through the opps like some villians |
| Nobody innocent, hop out and finish 'em |
| Niggas ain’t give us the benefit |
| Don’t care his age, if he bangin', we killin' him |
| And I grew up a lil hustler |
| Bumped to a plug, started off with a middleman |
| Riding the hood in a minivans |
| You ain’t gon' blow guy, sit in the middle then |
| Free Crazy James, he been gone for like three |
| Tryin' give him fifteen, that mean he gotta sit for ten |
| Was gon' stand over a nigga and give him the clip |
| But fo’nem told me he a little man |
| Ain’t even worth it, I had seventeen |
| Coulda got half, I’ma give him a little then |
| Your boo a ho, he don’t go on no hit |
| Can’t show him the scene, he gon' sing like Riperton |