| Light up the gas, got my foot on the gas
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| Got my foot on they neck, put my hood up my neck
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| I’ma flood the Patek, I’ma fuck up a check
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| I’ma fuck up a sack, I’ma get it right back
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| I’ma pick up a backend, I go see the plug with the backend
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| They ballin' my phone 'cause the pack in
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| It feel like plain fabric
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| I dab in the lavish, can’t settle for average, uh
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| Can’t hit no bitch if she average
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| Can’t love that bitch 'cause that pussy got too many mileage
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| Seen so much violence, my nigga, that’s too many bodies
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| Too many guns, so that’s too many homis
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| I had to go head to head with my demons
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| I see my dead friends at night when I’m dreamin'
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| Might swipe your wife and I’m swipin' at Neimans
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| Jump off a flight, put this pipe in your BM
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| Lace up the profit, get right with the brodie
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| I’m out in traffic at night with the forty
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| One thing that come with this life, it get lonely
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| I’m at the crib with the pint on the Dually
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| Sip up the pint and I lite up the dotie
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| Take flight on the dotie, can’t fight with my whoadies
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| Smokin' exotic from right out the OZ
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| Approach me too close, you lil' bitch, you don’t know me
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| I be too faded off OG and codeine
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| Way too sedated, I feel like I’m floating
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| Numb to the pain, I refrain and I’m sober
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| I got a flight to the A in the morning
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| I cannot hit just one bitch 'cause it’s boring
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| I fuck like five times a day when I’m touring
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| Stand in the rain, takin' shit, leave the only
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| Hearin' 'em grieving, the sound that’s important
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| Huh, my lil' bitch, she from Paris, imported
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| Just been in the stu' bustin' plays and recording
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| I had to fall back 'cause them hoes is exhausting, for real, huh
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| I tried to give niggas some game and they crossed me
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| These niggas they claim but them bitches is costly
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| I fought 'gainst the state and that shit really cost me, for real
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| I know one thing, that my bitch gon' support me
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| And she gon' do more 'cause that bitch, she adore me
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| I ride with it on me 'cause they tryna off me for real, yeah
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| We pull up with shit that they got in the army
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| Shit I had that stick on me, shoppin' in Barneys
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| Yeah, I keep that stick, I ain’t talkin' Atari, for real, yeah |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Dead Friends , by - Retch. Song from the album Richer Than The Opps, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп