Lyrics Confession - Payroll Giovanni, HBK, Cashout Calhoun

Confession

Yuh
B Mills, what up though?
BYLUG
Started out dime-stashin', now I’m into high fashion (Yuh)
Ridin' past in S-Classes, when I walk, my neck clashin' (Yeah)
Chains hittin' other chains, every day, I’m duckin' lames
Braggin' ‘bout that petty shit, boy, I’m in another lane
Crib with electric gates, coupes with the paper plates
Scrape and shake in place, help a nigga get his paper straight
Pocket-watchers tryna calculate what I make a day
‘Cause I been wearin' rose gold since Miskeen and Bathing Ape
Pointers in the cross when I’m sayin' grace, amen
Outfit almost eight bands, your bitch told me to make plans (Bitch)
Told me meet her at the Black party, bitch, I’m way in France
Sippin' on tea with Louis gloves warmin' up on my hands (Yuh)
Obviously, I ain’t your man, he a pill-poppin
Nappy-head, tacky motherfucker, I’m a smooth hustler (Ha)
I drink Dom P and wear snug tees that smell like Creed
And flood neighborhoods anytime I’m sellin' weed
My confession is I’m ballin' on ‘em like it’s my possession
Never restin', only time I sit — I’m countin' at the Westin
They can’t fuck with me, my competition is my reflection
My confession is I got a bad Louis Vuitton obsession
My confession: I can’t help but to buy some shit that I like
Go to sleep, dream about diamonds, wake up and buy some ice
My confession: I had your bitch suckin' me all night
Went to sleep in D&G and then woke up in Off-White
My confession
Yeah
Detroit nigga blowin' California Cookie (Blowin')
I been doin' this, I ain’t no mufuckin' rookie (Ain't no rookie, nigga)
Had to grind for this shit, niggas think I just got lucky (Uh huh)
Last time you had a run, the Pistons had Rodney Stuckey (Broke ass niggas)
Everybody swear they up, everybody swear they ball
But pullin' out the GPS when it’s time to hit the mall (Huh?)
Your bitch blowin' up my phone, but she still won’t get a call (Hell nah)
When I leave out Somerset, they give me round of applause, nigga (Yup)
Pick my sister up from school with ‘bout twenty of ‘em (Twenty)
They like, «What your brother do?»
She told ‘em listen to my songs
Young, skinny nigga, but I still got them big bucks (I do)
I been chillin' lately, but you still can get your bitch fucked (Uh huh)
All a nigga talk is money, bitch, I got the hiccups (Hiccups)
One-on-one with your bitch, like we playin' pick-up
I’m the young OG, you know I gotta remind (Gotta remind)
Could’ve bought a whip, instead, I went to Louis Vuitton, nigga
My confession is I’m ballin' on ‘em like it’s my possession
Never restin', only time I sit — I’m countin' at the Westin
They can’t fuck with me, my competition is my reflection
My confession is I got a bad Louis Vuitton obsession
My confession: I can’t help but to buy some shit that I like
Go to sleep, dream about diamonds, wake up and buy some ice
My confession: I had your bitch suckin' me all night
Went to sleep in D&G and then woke up in Off-White
My confession
Everything I’m talkin' - I’ve done it, I ain’t seen it (Nope)
And everything that come out my mouth, I really mean it (Yup)
And everything that come out your mouth, we can’t believe it (Boy)
It’s some real niggas in hoods that know I’m genius (Swear to God)
I ain’t hatin', this shit all facts, y’all niggas are ball cappin' (Yup)
If fake-it-til-you-make-it was a sport, y’all be all champs (Yup)
Got sidetracked, took a year off just to stack it up
And I know how to play these niggas soon as I’m back up
All that lil' pussy shit, «They onto me,» whack as fuck (Fuck)
I just put thirty of ‘em things in back of a truck (Yup)
Shit be amazin' to y’all, don’t shit surprise me (Nope)
You ain’t pulled up to Church’s to serve a five-piece
I was done after nine, they was on a crime spree
With a toothpick in my mouth, smokin' over the receipt (Yup)
You can ask anybody, really did it in these streets
Callin' shotgun in that Lamb- like it got assigned seats, nigga
My confession is I’m ballin' on ‘em like it’s my possession
Never restin', only time I sit — I’m countin' at the Westin
They can’t fuck with me, my competition is my reflection
My confession is I got a bad Louis Vuitton obsession
My confession: I can’t help but to buy some shit that I like
Go to sleep, dream about diamonds, wake up and buy some ice
My confession: I had your bitch suckin' me all night
Went to sleep in D&G and then woke up in Off-White
My confession
BYLUG, nigga
Cashout Calhoun, Payroll Giovanni, Lil Blade, what up though?
G’s and ballers, nigga?
You know who this is — HB