| Listen I, I don’t believe in maybe, prolly
|
| Only off, and on, overthinking had me idle
|
| Kiss my dice, and throw, this Remy got my gut on fire
|
| I gotta drive home still, one eye open
|
| Seeing Dos on the road, oh no
|
| Life insurance is really doin' exactly what you like
|
| And love 'cause that’s that shit that keep the fire lightin' up
|
| Get out the dark and spark, yeah
|
| Gon' head, lighten up
|
| No gravity on me, one with the sky
|
| Maraca, maraca, we make somethin' shake
|
| Sinatra, Sinatra, we all want Frank
|
| Bend my heart, bend my eye, but I won’t break
|
| Gratata pop out like hot bread
|
| Don’t burn tongue ma, trine bite down so quick
|
| Wait ya turn
|
| Might let you participate
|
| I feel like Percy, No Limit, uh
|
| We don’t believe in their parameters
|
| All my niggas on perimeter
|
| I’m on they ass like an enema
|
| And all my enemies been friending up
|
| Like Monica and Chandler
|
| You see this bass can break a chandelier
|
| And this verse just cracked a bannister
|
| Man I pray the crowd can stand in here
|
| Bruh it’s so many hands in here
|
| Niggas’ll think we selling manicures
|
| I never view myself as amateur
|
| And when it’s just me, myself and marmalady
|
| I give her the seeds so sweet, shawty that pomegranate
|
| Couldn’t imagine myself takin' this shit for granted
|
| Life ain’t even granted
|
| Off the strength, I’m brown-skinned
|
| Shit ain’t sweet, no candy grace my tongue
|
| Just bitter back taste
|
| Runnin' for the cheese, definition of the rat race
|
| Put the pedal to the floor mat
|
| We only kick it w-where the dough’s at
|
| Maraca, maraca, we make somethin' shake
|
| Sinatra, Sinatra, we all want Frank
|
| Bend my heart, bend my eye, but I won’t break
|
| Gratata pop out like hot bread
|
| Don’t burn tongue ma, trine bite down so quick
|
| Wait ya turn
|
| Might let you participate
|
| I usually, usually, usually don’t do this
|
| So don’t you confuse this
|
| With school, bitch game ain’t free
|
| I’m booking my flight, got a suitcase
|
| Gotta move, bae
|
| Bada-bing-bada-boomaye
|
| Skrrt, peew on Suzuki
|
| That’s two wheels, if you will then I will
|
| If you scared then I feel, I feel you
|
| But if you real then I extract my grill
|
| And I snack on that 'til that blood sugar build
|
| We ain’t even meet and shawty want the gyro, woah
|
| Got the whole, zero, on a clear road, woah
|
| Nigga found his pen over off of Penrose
|
| My auntie stayed in the ville, no not talking J. Cole
|
| Blkswn time bomb, dropping 3−1-4
|
| Last time I was in my city, all my people, they told me, nigga
|
| SHUT IT DOWN
|
| Yeah yeah, they told me, nigga
|
| SHUT IT DOWN
|
| They told me, nigga
|
| Listen I, I don’t believe in maybe, prolly
|
| Only off, and on, overthinking had me idle
|
| Kiss my dice, and throw, this Remy got my gut on fire
|
| I gotta drive home still, one eye open
|
| Seeing Dos on the road, oh no
|
| Life insurance is really doin' exactly what you like
|
| And love 'cause that’s the shit that keep the fire lightin' upp
|
| Get out the dark and spark, yeah
|
| Gon' head, lighten up
|
| No gravity on me, one with the sky |