[Intro]
SB
Yungen, Money 1st
[?] the mandem
Barz, E, Teo, Skinz, Ham, Jay, Swag, Nerves
[Verse 1]
I'm tryna blow, I ain't really tryna see a jail bus
I'm looking up because I've been through the hell trust
I've got my girls up
I'm on the ball to be first, someone put ice in my World Cup
Ah, like who's in my bracket?
The metaphor's a lighter, these dudes couldn't match it
Fronting he's a bad boy but can he hack it
'Cause I'ma turn him back to front if I slap it
'Cause I be kicking, thinking about my dead cousin
Thinking 'bout my past, tryna push my ex buttons
I'll be sipping Yak thinking should I redrum him?
We get them bass sticks out and leave his head drumming
I've got the browning forking out the lead
Tell him mind how it's talking, I'm all about the head
I'm hustling for hard dough so I can eat a king's meal, basically I'm all about my bread
They're saying I'm on fire, na I ain't tryna cool off
I'm doing kind of well, I ain't tryna fall off
My speech marks I'm the best under 21 but I'm just tryna be the best full stop
But it's peak 'cause I'm stuck in this pepper war
Where over a little picture, the weapons draw
I can get a whore
I just give her a punchline and she'll know exactly what I met her for
They say talking road I will never make it
But I don't live a fairy tale, so why fake it
'Nough man make believe, I don't rate it
But sign me for a two pack and we'll see some changes
Uh, I'm talking cribs, Ranges
I can't watch, I ain't into all that chain shit
I rearrange shit
I've got some metal that handles a whole bag of teeth, can you brace this?
They say the game's their's, but the game's our's
How can the game be their's if they cowards
I've been doing this for months, weeks, days, hours
Dug 'em on another level, ask Dane Bowers
I go so in, now they notice
They're comparing me to Ne-Yo, I'm so sick
'Cause everything that I'm saying, they quote it
Straight up man, I'm even on my own dick
Real talk, they be loving if I'm dead
I still get hood dough but it ain't covering my head
I ain't tryna be 21, hustling a Z
I'd rather eat the cake with the custard on the edge
Now there's so many man I've deserted, I'm tryna break fast without no porridge
And I'm the proof that they overrate college
Jesus pieces just to show we make profit
And when we riding out, we don't call phone
I'm tryna slap about 3, bring the ball home
Mr. Put it in her stomach, call me gallstones
I literally make a whore moan
SB
Yungen, Money 1st
[?] the mandem
Barz, E, Teo, Skinz, Ham, Jay, Swag, Nerves
[Verse 1]
I'm tryna blow, I ain't really tryna see a jail bus
I'm looking up because I've been through the hell trust
I've got my girls up
I'm on the ball to be first, someone put ice in my World Cup
Ah, like who's in my bracket?
The metaphor's a lighter, these dudes couldn't match it
Fronting he's a bad boy but can he hack it
'Cause I'ma turn him back to front if I slap it
'Cause I be kicking, thinking about my dead cousin
Thinking 'bout my past, tryna push my ex buttons
I'll be sipping Yak thinking should I redrum him?
We get them bass sticks out and leave his head drumming
I've got the browning forking out the lead
Tell him mind how it's talking, I'm all about the head
I'm hustling for hard dough so I can eat a king's meal, basically I'm all about my bread
They're saying I'm on fire, na I ain't tryna cool off
I'm doing kind of well, I ain't tryna fall off
My speech marks I'm the best under 21 but I'm just tryna be the best full stop
But it's peak 'cause I'm stuck in this pepper war
Where over a little picture, the weapons draw
I can get a whore
I just give her a punchline and she'll know exactly what I met her for
They say talking road I will never make it
But I don't live a fairy tale, so why fake it
'Nough man make believe, I don't rate it
But sign me for a two pack and we'll see some changes
Uh, I'm talking cribs, Ranges
I can't watch, I ain't into all that chain shit
I rearrange shit
I've got some metal that handles a whole bag of teeth, can you brace this?
They say the game's their's, but the game's our's
How can the game be their's if they cowards
I've been doing this for months, weeks, days, hours
Dug 'em on another level, ask Dane Bowers
I go so in, now they notice
They're comparing me to Ne-Yo, I'm so sick
'Cause everything that I'm saying, they quote it
Straight up man, I'm even on my own dick
Real talk, they be loving if I'm dead
I still get hood dough but it ain't covering my head
I ain't tryna be 21, hustling a Z
I'd rather eat the cake with the custard on the edge
Now there's so many man I've deserted, I'm tryna break fast without no porridge
And I'm the proof that they overrate college
Jesus pieces just to show we make profit
And when we riding out, we don't call phone
I'm tryna slap about 3, bring the ball home
Mr. Put it in her stomach, call me gallstones
I literally make a whore moan
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