[Intro]
Mmm
Mmm-mmm
Yeah, fuck it, let me pop my shit one time
[Chorus]
Nobody got hit, spin the block again (Yeah, yeah)
I done been too solid, something got to give (Yeah, yeah)
Rockin' real diamonds before I got the deal
Through the grace of God, we got away, so now we gotta chill
They thought it was rap cap and I told ’em that I got a mil'
You can get whatever if you ask me, you ain't gotta steal
My lil’ woadie said he fightin' demons, feel like he gotta kill
And I just left the hood to catch a vibe and that shit give me chills
[Verse 1]
One hand on my steering wheel, other arm to work the blicky
I'ma be forever gang but smart enough to keep my distance
Product of the real trenches, that's why I wear a trench coat
Damn near fucked my life gamblin', bet it all on ten-to-four
Rap get slow, I'm sellin' loads, can't get caught with no skinny ho
Can’t get caught with no ho at all, bitch, don’t slam my door that hard
I pull up like, "Oh my Lawd," she gon' shop, she hold my card
Glock four-fifth my bodyguard, I sip syrup, no noddin’ off
If you know you owe me, better come and pay me, better not be a dollar short
I done took the game, put it in a lock, I ain't even try
Lookin' like a lick, tryna play slick, nigga, you'll die
Comin’ from the bricks, I ain't had shit, now the new Coupe 125
Yeah
Mmm
Mmm-mmm
Yeah, fuck it, let me pop my shit one time
[Chorus]
Nobody got hit, spin the block again (Yeah, yeah)
I done been too solid, something got to give (Yeah, yeah)
Rockin' real diamonds before I got the deal
Through the grace of God, we got away, so now we gotta chill
They thought it was rap cap and I told ’em that I got a mil'
You can get whatever if you ask me, you ain't gotta steal
My lil’ woadie said he fightin' demons, feel like he gotta kill
And I just left the hood to catch a vibe and that shit give me chills
[Verse 1]
One hand on my steering wheel, other arm to work the blicky
I'ma be forever gang but smart enough to keep my distance
Product of the real trenches, that's why I wear a trench coat
Damn near fucked my life gamblin', bet it all on ten-to-four
Rap get slow, I'm sellin' loads, can't get caught with no skinny ho
Can’t get caught with no ho at all, bitch, don’t slam my door that hard
I pull up like, "Oh my Lawd," she gon' shop, she hold my card
Glock four-fifth my bodyguard, I sip syrup, no noddin’ off
If you know you owe me, better come and pay me, better not be a dollar short
I done took the game, put it in a lock, I ain't even try
Lookin' like a lick, tryna play slick, nigga, you'll die
Comin’ from the bricks, I ain't had shit, now the new Coupe 125
Yeah
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