Lyrics:
the other day he told me he in chill mood
I call my pops the other day he said he wanna build more
I can't make that bitch my bitch cause she like to be a hoe
Tried to get him to tell about me
He told 12, "Gimme 12"
He told them to go to hell about me
Drug dealers anonymous
Y’all think Uber’s the future
Our cars
Nutty Block they used to call him Maniac
Crazy ass n**** wit' a Black Panther tat
Kill a n**** cross him out on his Compton hat
Told me when I got
Call me a priest how I make the word last
And I'll post it on TikTok
You The Thing by the way that body rock
Feeling yourself that's on wank sock
Pull
business you timid on a lick
My name pop up in drama man just leave me out of it
My nigga swiped the new Versaces just to match his fit
Tuxedo all black
enough for me
I eat lovely
Richer than your budget be
Richer than my budget be?
I'm richer than his salary
Fast break, Lamb pass by that's a fast
Prozac
Let me power up my Pro Mac
Type if up professional, so I can get them pro scraps
Hell, I'll scrape it off the bottom until by wings grow flaps
Till
It's just another day, drowning my troubles with a forty
That's when I got the call from this brown skin shorty
She asked me where's my crew at, said
me[02:54.95]Always by my side[02:57.51]I will rest[03:00.83]I will rest[03:05.48]Draw me nearer to You Lord[03:09.06]I want to be closer to Your heart[03:12.50]Let me
Wanna be a baller, shot caller
Twenty-inch blades on the Impala
Call her, gettin' laid tonight
Swisha rolled tight, got sprayed by Ike
I hit
Wanna be a baller, shot caller
Twenty-inch blades on the Impala
Call her, gettin' laid tonight
Swisha rolled tight, got sprayed by Ike
I hit
that call the husk home
Might embalm and stiffen and rid the fawn of all his liquids
Slather it in beeswax, wrap it up in ribbons
Limb by limb, by
Shoutout Lecrae, yeah
Tryna rise, man
Yeah
Uh
Shoutout Da 12
Yeah, let's go
Late nights, early mornings, uh
That's the grind, old me is tryna come
Ah you hear this?
Ada big belly guy I telling be talking
By my side is my version Biggie Smalls Ya?
(no question, no question)
From Brooklyn Ya!
that I call that shit lit
I don't want you back, no
I just made 10 racks, woah
All my dogs movin' back, woah
I got bitches by the stack
Who got it bitch?
screaming (Oh Yea)
Had to get right Do the dirt by myself
I only get me and nobody else (No Telling)
I had to finesse running off with the pack
The plug
like "Help" dummy
While I'm diddy-boppin' out, wavin' like jail funny
I get locked up by 12, say around 12:20
Call me Slater and Screech, get saved by
from managerial roles
In hierarchical versions of hell
Keep punching the clock as it punches me back
Can't tell who's winning the fight
I'm afraid my
at every turn
Use to call me the future now the future my concern
Now don't you understand man universal law
What you throws out come back to you star
You
Uhh uh uh
In the studio cooking dope
No clientele
And I done made it out the mud
Did it all by myself
Call my jeweler over at Icebox
Fill that bitch
Bonanza
Catch me in the cut, easy G's is burnin' my gut
As I remember my ménage à trois was mired by sluts
I question mark your heart, punctuate your
They be talking this and that
But ain't never touched a nigga
Got one shorty on the roster
Since like 12 been pulling triggers
If I wanna slime em
wave
Yeah, I say
I fucked a little bitch and invest her
I made her a product collector
So I call me collector
And I'm a Rogers, I keep a A.R.
And I'm
you dey good to me ) x2
(Call: You dey good to me
Response: Hu... hu....
Call: To me x3
Response: hu... hu) x2
(Back to Vs 1 by all)
You dey good
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