| Pressure all in my loft
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| Steady gettin' this shit off
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| At first I was lost
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| Then I got me some crops
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| She give ass on the top
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| I got shooters who watch and alerted
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| When they aim it’s precise and it’s perfect
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| When I go in she feeling it perfect
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| NBA money I need a jersey
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| Kickin' shit in the penthouse that’s furnished
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| She came over we fucked on the furniture
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| I woke up and I shot at a burglar
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| I be hanging with felons and murderers
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| Keep my name out ya mouth or we burnin' you
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| Send the addy we pull up and serve you
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| Hit stick
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| Plottin' on niggas we sinister
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| Just sold a bag to a minister
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| I wanna feel on your curvature
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| My lil bih from Decatur she savage
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| But she pretty and keep a lil ratchet
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| Keep a weedman, just show me yo factory
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| Sippin' drank I ain' sippin' on daiquiri
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| All this swipin' increasing my salary
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| Different cities I took this shit national
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| She say please come in go in my vaginal
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| Fendi jogger my outfit be casual
|
| Gucci headband but no I’m not hoopin'
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| Niggas push up on us then they stupid
|
| They ain’t hip to the dawg, well they clueless
|
| Bought a stick and I know I’ma use it
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| Me and my niggas on the same page
|
| We talkin' on the phone we use code names
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| White bitch same color cocaine
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| We ain’t fuck around with no lames
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| On my left hand 4 rangs
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| All these blues ain’t no change
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| Even with the money I won’t change
|
| Even with the fame I’m humble
|
| One way ticket out to Humboldt
|
| All these racks I need two vaults
|
| Shout out my niggas in Duval
|
| Free all my niggas behind the wall
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| Wish I could burn one with all of y’all
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| Wish y’all had no time at all
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| There’s money out here and I’ma find it all
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| I’ma go fill up this Louis duffle
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| 4 years ago I still struggled
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| Now I gotta sack and I’m still hustlin'
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| My lil youngin' gonna kill somethin'
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| Heard your mixtape I ain’t feel nothin'
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| The streets I ain’t trust for real
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| Need an M before I sign a deal
|
| Seen a scale and it gave me chills
|
| Remember just keep it real
|
| Pressure all in my loft
|
| Steady gettin' this shit off
|
| At first I was lost
|
| Then I got me some crops
|
| She give ass on the top
|
| I got shooters who watch and alerted
|
| When they aim it’s precise and it’s perfect
|
| When I go in she feeling it perfect
|
| NBA money I need a jersey
|
| Kickin' shit in the penthouse that’s furnished
|
| She came over we fucked on the furniture
|
| I woke up and I shot at a burglar
|
| I be hanging with felons and murderers
|
| Keep my name out ya mouth or we burnin' you
|
| Send the addy we pull up and serve you
|
| Hit stick
|
| Plottin' on niggas we sinister
|
| Just sold a bag to a minister
|
| I wanna feel on your curvature
|
| My lil bih from Decatur she savage
|
| But she pretty and keep a lil ratchet
|
| Keep a weedman, just show me yo factory
|
| Sippin' drank I ain' sippin' on daiquiri |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Lost , by - Money Man. Song from the album 6 Hours 2, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп