| I’ma die in these streets if I don’t get it right!
|
| They told me, «take it outside!» |
| I ain’t going, boy! |
| (going boy)
|
| You just tellin' stories, you ain’t 'bout that life!
|
| You ain’t 'bout that life, you going overboard! |
| (yeah!)
|
| Yeah, it’s over for you (yeah!)
|
| Yeah, it’s over for you (yeah!)
|
| Make me tuck and roll you (yeah!)
|
| Burn a lot of gas (yeah!)
|
| Burn a lot of oil! |
| (yeah!)
|
| Burn a lot of cash (yeah!)
|
| My new bitch so spoiled (yeah!)
|
| Boy, we in your ass! |
| (yeah!)
|
| Do you dirty, soil (yeah!)
|
| LOL catch me outside, uh
|
| And these bananas is rotten, uh
|
| Run up, you losing your life, uh
|
| Boy, I hate being alive, uh
|
| Still trading hoes with the guys, uh
|
| See all this hate in my eyes, uh
|
| In the club with a handful of dimes (uh!)
|
| When you broke, gotta wait in the line, uh
|
| I feel like Supa Bwe Prime, fuck
|
| Do the crime, do the time, fuck
|
| You ain’t done shit all your life, fuck
|
| Bet that you tell on your guys
|
| Fuck my life, they say I’m hard like lead pipe
|
| Treat her right, her head right, my bread right
|
| I’ma die in these streets if I don’t get it right!
|
| They told me, «take it outside!» |
| I ain’t going, boy! |
| (yeah!)
|
| You just tellin' stories, you ain’t 'bout that life!
|
| You ain’t 'bout that life, you going overboard! |
| (yeah!)
|
| Yeah, it’s over for you (yeah!)
|
| Yeah, it’s over for you (yeah!)
|
| Make me tuck and roll you (yeah!)
|
| Burn a lot of gas (yeah!)
|
| Burn a lot of oil! |
| (yeah!)
|
| Burn a lot of cash (yeah!)
|
| My new bitch so spoiled (yeah!)
|
| Boy, we in your ass! |
| (yeah!)
|
| Do you dirty, soil (yeah!)
|
| They told me, «take it outside!» |
| I ain’t going, boy
|
| Columbine, how I’m bowling, boy
|
| I bet you’re triggered by that line, got me rolling, boy (whoa!)
|
| Homicide on myself
|
| Just to silence all the demons stuck inside of myself
|
| I get high by myself
|
| Chase that life by myself
|
| I’ma die by myself
|
| Chill the fuck out, let me cry by myself
|
| Maybe it’s me, I’ve stopped lying to myself
|
| (what?)
|
| Everybody else (who?)
|
| Everyone else (yeah!)
|
| Everyone else (yeah!)
|
| What it is, hoe (bet!)
|
| What his hands fo'? |
| (bet!)
|
| boy, pull up in a Benzo
|
| Suck that dick, hoe
|
| Stack them chips, hoe
|
| I’m on my shit, bro
|
| Talkin', you get clipped, bro
|
| Umbrella came in the Rover
|
| I get the drip from my walk
|
| I feel like Dex with the walk
|
| Dee-Dee's Laboratory, my hoe
|
| These niggas cat daddy flex, rolling on X
|
| I’m finna text her, went first class to the jet
|
| Then, I got neck, Femto bless her
|
| I ain’t finna give her no sex
|
| Ain’t no lick, I caress her
|
| Said I ain’t no rapper, and my fit dapper |