Fish Rice & Grits

Yeah, the don nigga
I call myself the don for a fuckin' reason, uh
'Cause I done lived to see all this shit nigga
And I'm still standin', you dig

Okay, this that type of shit that make 'em scratch you off the list
This that type of shit that make 'em watch you with your bitch
This that type of shit that make 'em watch you while you piss
This that hood shit, I'm talking fish and rice and grits, okay

Pull up at the light, hop out, alright I'm with the shits
Got on all white, ain't tryna fight, you might get flipped, c'mon
That three hundred shots, I'm talkin' Chrysler with the hits
Stephen Curry thirty, not that precise with the dick
Whip on eye fly, bitch I'm Einstein
Chain on sci-fi, wrist on wifi
Okay, swag on hi-fi, bitch I'm not a nice guy
Playin' with my life, you might die tonight right
I won't spare his life but I'll leave his nice wife
'Cause life is still a gamble, all you need is nice dice
Life is still a scandal, you won't see the night twice
Riding through the city, you can see the nice lights
Got a bitch that like pipe and bitch that fight dykes
'Cause I'm flier than a kite, you'll never see this sight twice
And I'm higher than a light, it's like I've seen this night twice
Got your bitch in my sight, got your bitch on my side

This that type of shit that make 'em scratch you off the list
This that type of shit that make 'em watch you with your bitch
This that type of shit that make 'em watch you while you piss
This that hood shit, I'm talking fish and rice and grits, okay
This that type of shit that make 'em scratch you off the list
This that type of shit that make 'em watch you with your bitch
This that type of shit that make 'em watch you while you piss
This that hood shit, I'm talking fish and rice and grits, okay

Okay now what your life like? what your wife like?
Is your Sprite spiked? it go night night
Bitch I'm too high, why? got no wifi
I'm too damn fly, this is my sky, alright
I'm too damn fly, you can't even lie
Eating wings and rice, sipping lean and Sprite
Okay now YSL fly, Givenchy attire
Double cup with ice, I knock out my lights
Okay double C with me, I'm with Chanel, she can't fight
Alright, double G with me, I paid 'em extra for my size
Balmain jeans, yeah they fitting quite tight
Twenty in the left side, twenty in the right side
Reach and lose an arm, watch and lose your eyesight
Bitches on me, I-Spy, get them bitches out my sight
Bracelet with the charm, I keep on some light ice
Money on me right right, talkin' loaded fight night

This that type of shit that make 'em scratch you off the list
This that type of shit that make 'em watch you with your bitch
This that type of shit that make 'em watch you while you piss
This that hood shit, I'm talking fish and rice and grits, okay
This that type of shit that make 'em scratch you off the list
This that type of shit that make 'em watch you with your bitch
This that type of shit that make 'em watch you while you piss
This that hood shit, I'm talking fish and rice and grits, okay

This that type of shit that make 'em scratch you off the list
This that type of shit that make 'em watch you with your bitch
This that type of shit that make 'em watch you while you piss
This that hood shit, I'm talking fish and rice and grits, okay



Credits
Writer(s): Johnathan Joyner, Jahmon Pauling, Kazarion Fowler
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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