Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Sessions , by - Suspect. Release date: 17.05.2018
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Sessions |
| Yeah |
| Yeah |
| Flyo |
| I’m having to put the light back on |
| Uh |
| I can get rich off music now |
| Don’t need no fiends |
| But none of these Ps are clean |
| Inside my Moschino jeans |
| I’ve got black, got white, got Asian |
| Even Latino beans |
| Big handgun, self-reloading |
| You ain’t even seen machines |
| Said the buj has got the fiends addicted |
| Done more hooks than Quavo |
| I’ve got work on the streets |
| And I’ve got hooks on the radio |
| I just want money and girls |
| I just want skengs and pesos |
| Pull up on smoke with weebs |
| Man’s tryna run, what way, though? |
| Slide on 'em |
| Fly, load up the beats, man glide on 'em |
| Get a drop and we lie on 'em |
| Put wings on the packs, man’s flying 'em, traffic |
| Pattern up |
| You ain’t got a pitch or a batter up |
| We need the win, no matter what |
| They don’t want this as bad as us |
| Bad as Michael with the red jacket |
| Moonwalking with a Z packet |
| Billie Jean, I was really lean |
| With the big machine, it gets active |
| Can’t keep phones |
| Cuh the feds track it |
| We just tryna climb |
| To the next bracket |
| Uh, I’m like I could get rich off these bricks |
| But I don’t really need the scene |
| I don’t even need your comments |
| Preeing weebs |
| Pussy just clocked my shine |
| And long time I had this gleam |
| Long time I had this shit locked |
| I’m like «what do you mean?» |
| Since like the age of fifteen |
| The gyal have been calling me reem |
| I 'member when I used to be ugly |
| Now come like a man of prestige |
| Either the looks or the money |
| Do I look like I give a shit, please? |
| I’m like now I just pick a man’s wife |
| Like 'oi, babe, you’re coming with me' |
| Coming with the team |
| She’s got a bag of friends and they’re coming with the Gs |
| I said I felt a way, she’s got nothing underneath |
| They love me from I popped right out the scene |
| I said I want the top spot |
| I want nothing inbetween |
| Welcome to the chop shop |
| A nigga cutting from your spleen |
| Supervillain like Doc Oc |
| And niggas pattern when they see me |
| Well, I’ll get a nigga’s top dropped |
| Don’t be fucking round with weebs |
| Way before this rap |
| Niggas were shooting up the scene |
| How you know so many shottas |
| And you never sold a brick in your life? |
| How you know so many gyal |
| But you still can’t find you a wife? |
| How you smoke all that weed |
| But remember all of them rhymes? |
| True, I came through with the ring |
| Touch mic, let me fist do shine |
| Niggas linked up to block the path |
| Better luck next time |
| Say the wrong ting tonight |
| By morning, bluku bye bye |
| Always get called for verses |
| Man know what I send back gon' be certi |
| I got half a box but it’s not to shot |
| I get high as fuck, that’s my percy |
| Penthouse view |
| When I’m down by the river |
| Dressing gown on |
| Milly rocking in my slippers |
| Household name |
| Tryna get a little bigger |
| I see you pulling out your phone |
| What you doing, little nigga? |
| Dem man snap too much |
| Dem man chat too much |
| Ayy, Chip, you run your mouth too much |
| Didn’t wanna do it but I had to, bruv |
| I hate getting stressed, love getting head |
| Pop your collar at me, I’ll be at your neck |
| Still spitting gems, in the trap, invest |
| We just living life, Chippy, Sus and Tef |