Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Lifestyle (Intro), artist - WARHOL.SS. Album song Chest Pains, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 13.11.2018
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: EMPIRE, Warhol.ss
Song language: English
Lifestyle (Intro) |
I run this shit like a leader, ayy |
I collect all my time like a meter, ayy |
Measure your time out the beaker, ayy |
And we gon' pour up this shit by the liter, yeah |
Bitch wanna check my, bet she wanna check how I get fly |
Peep this shit like a bird, mean eye |
Baby ain’t no worries, we high |
Gon' check the urgency |
Sit back countin' these chips knowin' niggas wanna murder me, ayy |
Hot nigga ridin' round town, burn a nigga with the third degree |
Breakin' through the surface, tryna see if this shit worth it |
Closin' these curtains, showin' these niggas my purpose |
Ayy, if I don’t protect my own |
Can’t kick, these niggas just clones |
Hear facts, you can hear my tone |
Hellcat, you can hear my engine runnin', ayy |
Get to work and I call these plays |
Good Lord, my nigga won’t fold |
Countin' these deads 'til my money get old |
Can’t fuck with these niggas, they be penny-pinchin' |
Countin' favors, had to fuck your ho until she woke the neighbors |
Audemars, stay with the capers |
Yeah, you know I’m pimpin', dawg |
Showed you niggas how to ball |
I’m the one that stack it tall |
Asian persuasion, I like your cajun, ayy |
Lost my train of thought from all these woods I’m facin' |
Pinot Gris the taste, Mason Margiela lace |
Niggas want that smoke, it’s on delivery, be sure to answer |
I flood the streets, I leave the levies broke, ayy |
No nigga cut like me, can’t speak the shit I spoke |
It’s known to shoot, I always show up at the woke, ayy |
That blasphemy you speakin', hope a nigga choke, choke |
Keep my pistol, hey |
Nigga want smoke with me, gang |
Hollow-tips bullets gon' kiss you, ayy |
Damn then your mama gon' miss you, hey, ayy |
Hop out the jeep, then hop in the G, I’m switching, hey |
Keep that fire like Benson, huh, piece up all intentions |
Lord knows I’ma hold down my own |
Real nigga shit, bread up in my bones |
I ain’t got no time to waste, ayy, woah |
Visine in my vision, eyes gon' find a way |
Asian persuasion, I like your cajun, ayy |
Lost my train of thought from all these woods I’m facin' |
Pinot Gris the taste, Mason Margiela lace |
Niggas want that smoke, it’s on delivery, be sure to answer |
I flood the streets, I leave the levies broke, ayy |
No nigga cut like me, can’t speak the shit I spoke |
It’s known to shoot, I always show up at the woke, ayy |
That blasphemy you speakin', hope a nigga choke, choke |