Lyrics 30 a Week - Peezy

30 a Week

Thirty bands every week
I need thirty bands every week
Thirty bands every week
Bad bitch ridin' with me, yeah, she on fleek
They say they get the chills when they hear me speak
If this ain’t God’s will, my whole team gon' eat
Gave my nigga life 'cause he refused to speak
Told him, «Fuck you, lock me up and throw away the key»
I get on these tracks and let my soul bleed
My family needs some money every time my phone ring
Refuse to take a handout, I need my own cheese
I’ll take care of my little brother and my OG
On the outside lookin' in, niggas think I made it
I bought all this fuckin' jewelery just for entertainment
One slip-up, it’s back to the basics
If this rap shit don’t work, I’ll sell a brick in eighthies
Landlord want his rent money, had to make the payment
Might shoot a nigga whole head off, all this built-up anger
Fuck nigga can’t do the time, so they makin statements
Just got a check for thirteen-hundred, bought a brand new banger
They gave niggas my last money, they ain’t even say thank you
I done hit the road with my last money and I ain’t even make it
Tryna stay my ass out them courtrooms, them peoples racist
Young black nigga with a dream, they don’t wanna see you make it
When you bounce back from a major L, you should see they faces
And it be your own family, that’s the shit that’s crazy
I relate to them hard times, that’s the shit that made me
But we ain’t never goin' back to that, put it on my baby
Every other day, I’m goin' through it with my old lady
I done seen niggas get thirty years tryna ride Mercedes
Live in the fast lane, gotta slow it down, be patient
Young rich nigga without a deal, I ain’t need the label
Heard they wanna take me out the game, I’ve been eatin' lately
Tell me what you bring to the table, I feed the table
God forgives, I don’t, I’ma let Jesus save you
All I ask for you fuck niggas, just keep it gangster
Niggas dyin' everytime you watch the news or you read the papers
So we buyin' all these brand new tools that don’t got no safety
On the grind in the same clothes, I ain’t even changin'
Just put a dub in my shoebox, add it to my savings
I need thirty bands every week
I don’t even touch the work, nigga, I’m hands free
Now I get paid just to speak
They don’t believe it 'til they see
Five hundred oranges out in Tennessee
Turn around for a thousand beans out in the V
Do the speed limit, ride the middle lane, niggas' shit ain’t sweet
the peoples catch you on seventy-five, might be O-V
Came up from the bottom, now I’m at the T-O-P
And I ain’t finna say one word to the C-O-P's
Cuz called me from Southwest, need three more P’s
I done finally made a way for us, thank G-O-D
I need thirty bands every week
I ain’t come onto your bitch, she came onto me
My nigga did some time, he comin' home with cheese
Five diamond chains on, you bitches know it’s me
Thirty bands every week
I need thirty bands every week
Thirty bands every week
Bad bitch ridin' with me, yeah, she on fleek
Thirty bands every week
I need thirty bands every week
Thirty bands every week
Bad bitch ridin' with me, yeah, she on fleek