Lyrics Orbit - Retch

Orbit

Poppin these perkys and sippin this hi-tek
We gone send the runner to get some more sodas
I’m poppin, I gotta look over my shoulder
The streets getting colder
They just killed a nigga right there up the block from where I used to live at
You know that be the drip at
This shit is a cycle
This shit be so psycho
I live every day just like a four
I got a little boy, man I’m fragile
My son he needs Gucci so I gotta get it
This life shit too short, man I can’t chase no bitches
Don’t be 'round no pussies, that’s bad for my image
I talk to the lord and I know that he hear me
I fly off the orbit, I’m rockin' givenchy
I step in designer, I jump out the Bentley
I used to sell heroin and crack on my pennies
I’m draped in designer, I jump out that Bentley
I step out that wing, all that fake shit offend me
My Guinness, my game gone fuck up the city
We stack up the hundreds and blow through the fifties
Just know if you with me, you with me forrealy
I Louis my shit just to block out the envy
Can’t fuck with these niggas, these niggas they tricky
Still poured off the red, I’m remixin' it simply
I won’t even look at a bitch if she average
Got hoes I can’t text cause they don’t speak the language
I dare you to sleep in the trap with the addicts
I still smell the tape when you peel off the wrapper
My last show in LA on the stage had a ratchet
I shoot out to Vegas to pick up a pack
And they countin' me up and I’m back in the stream in the whip
And I’m back and this yellow lil bitch, blow her back out
And I’m real life, it’s deep, no cappin'
I went to war with that chicken, relay to niggas
Just put that boy in the venue
Cut on the TV
I put the gang in them phoebes
Imported hoe off of Paris
Pay me the who?
I’m embarrassed
I’m in the foreign, NO mileage
Trappin, my bitch in the
Gun out the drink and we swervin'
Whoa, whoa
I’m gettin head in the venue, I’m trynna get all up in you
Huh, Huh
I work that shit in the middle, shawty she diggin my rhythm
Huh, whoa
I hit that shit in the studio, beat it to my instrumentals
Whoa, whoa
The way she eat all that dick up, I swear I won’t never forget you
Poppin these perkys and sippin this hi-tek
We gone send the runner to get some more sodas
I’m poppin, I gotta look over my shoulder
The streets getting colder
They just killed a nigga right there up the block from where I used to live at
You know that be the drip at
This shit is a cycle
This shit be so psycho
I live every day just like a four
I got a little boy, man I’m fragile
My son he needs Gucci so I gotta get it
This life shit too short, man I can’t chase no bitches
Don’t be 'round no pussies, that’s bad for my image
I talk to the lord and I know that he hear me
I fly off the orbit, I’m rockin' givenchy
I step in designer, I jump out the Bentley
I used to sell heroin and crack on my pennies
Whoa