4rm Me To U

Yeah, Aye
Catour fuck it up

Gotta sit on this mic 'cause I can't keep my thoughts inside me
And I keep them hoes at my spotlight like Michael Lowrey
Got a bad lil bih from Paris, met her at the Eiffel Tower
Bought a brand new watch for my birthday
But I ain't put no ice around it (no no)
I can't change the person I am baby
But I can change the way that I live (rich homie)
And if a thing happened for a reason,
Baby I can't change nothing I did (uh uh)
If I could change anything baby wouldn't've made you never aborted that kid
But I did and it's on my mind still (I'm sorry baby)
I been tryna find a way to forgive (tryna find a way)
You, want, diamonds off in my ear
Shinin' they know I'm clear, behind me they in the rear
We kickin' pimpin' over here, no lame bitches over here

I say them bitches ain't gettin' paid on they face a lot of hate
But I ain't trippin' cause they do a lot of shade throwing
Me and my buddy hit a lick last week
We had to split it all this money boy
I told him let's get paid homie
I do this shit for gang gang gave all of my niggas chains
And right now I swear I feel just like a slave owner
All these nigga takin' swag hell yeah the homie mad
Come to think about it, they ain't ever pay homage

I put a lot these niggas on and I still ain't got my credit
But I ain't mad though
'Cause I could've been mad broke,
I watch my momma work a double just to feed all her kids
'Cause that bag slow (she got like three of em)
Gotta make that cash flow,
But I couldn't let my momma struggle,
So I got me a job, but she ain't no my job require,
A gun cause I rob
She ain't ever understand what was back in the kitchen,
Residue on the floor
She ain't know about the shootout in her truck (fa fa fa),
I told her I was involved
She ain't know about the co-defendant I had,
Kept it one hundred took the charge (I didn't take shit)
You the only one put somethin' on my books
When I was in jail and I starved (when I was locked up)
Cut from a different cloth, I'm as rare as they come,
And I'ma keep ballin' on these bitches like my hair is gone
(Rich homie baby)

I say them bitches ain't gettin' paid on they face a lot of hate
But I ain't trippin' cause they do a lot of shade throwing
Me and my buddy hit a lick last week
We had to split it all this money boy
I told him let's get paid homie
I do this shit for gang gang gave all of my niggas chains
And right now I swear I feel just like a slave owner
All these nigga takin' swag hell yeah the homie mad
Come to think about it, they ain't ever pay homage

At this point, yeen got to bro, haha you what I'm saying
I watch myself put you niggas on, ya feel me,
so at this point I'm dead nigga
Homie