Lyrics Suffer - LUD FOE

Suffer

Kid Wond3r, you made this beat?
Gang, aye
Out west 290 shit, you know how I’m rockin', nigga
Get your guns up, get your funds up
You on that opp shit, get mob sticked, bitch
I hit the mall, Gucci, Louis, Fendi, I just buy it all
Shout out to my shooter, he retarded, he ain’t got it all
Must be drunk, bet you had you too much of that alcohol
John Wall, bitch I shoot, but I don’t play no basketball
Could’ve, should’ve, would’ve, but you didn’t
Double G, my Gucci shirt is linen
I put Forgiatos on a Bentley
Windows tinted, they can’t see who in it
I ain’t been broke in a minute
They ain’t sold dope in a minute
Back in the days, I sold plenty
'Cause minimum wage wasn’t gon' get it
We gangbang, nigga, rep your set, what the fuck you claim
Thick bitch, tattoo on her ass, yeah, that be my name
Talk shit, I’ma get you changed for a piece of change
Walkin' lick, silence on the stick, you won’t hear a thing
Sold dope from my grandma house, 'cause I’m a hustler
You might get a discount if you a customer
Yeah, I think you’s a rat nigga, you hang with bustas
This bitch say she in love with me, but I don’t trust her
I pulled up, I’m in a Tesla, the color mustard
You police, you tryna cuff her, I’m tryna fuck her
She callin' me, I blocked her number, I’m tryna duck her
Leave niggas with the shitty face, I make 'em suffer
Got racks up in the pillowcase and under the covers
You in a turtle race, I got a quicker pace, I’m gettin' bigger cake
Bigger cake up on my dinner plate, what should I eat today?
Aim at your head, crack it like a egg, you think its Easter Day
I just bought my shooter Rugers, fuck her, send her in a Uber
I’m a winner, you’s a loser, fuck the teacher and a tutor
The feds watch my stash house, I gotta watch how I maneuver
You make me bring my mask out, you’d think that I was Freddie Kreuger
They find you with your ass out, now you smellin' like manure
I picked up my shell casings, dump them bitches in the sewer
We shot up the family reunion, bitch, we some party poopers
I fucked her and sold her a dream, I think I’m Martin Luther
You fucked up, think you can fuck with me, you got me fucked up Like Rosa,
feet kicked up, sittin' on the back of my tour bus
When I left the strip club, I pulled out doin' donuts
Ride Forgios and Velanos while your car on donuts
Niggas sneak dissin' and don’t even know us
You say you 'bout it, you gon' have to show us
Run off with your money like janky promoters
My car is my baby, I roll like a stroller
And we pop your top like some strawberry soda
These bankrolls on me be so big, I can’t fold 'em
And we empty Glocks, double back and reload 'em
I ran out of coke, so that soap what I sold 'em
It’s so many grams in these blunts, I can’t roll 'em
Got so many bricks on them boats, I can’t float 'em
These pistols got bodies, but we still gon tote 'em
Won’t aim at your body, them caskets, we close 'em
Kid Wond3r, you made this beat?
Damn
Skrt, skrt