Referee
Koast
Now days all these bitches want me for some fame
That's why I don't trust 'em I just pass 'em to the gang
We be slidin' through them jets where you niggas don't hang
If a nigga want smoke then that's what we gon' bring
And I'ma die for my respect
Slidin', gang members hoppin' out wit' TECs
Nigga, I'ma die for my respect
Slidin', gang members hoppin' out wit' TECs
What you know about pain?
Never met a referee that couldn't tell me 'bout the game
I lost my nigga to some gunshots
Now we slidin' tryna make a nigga lungs stop
I know my grandma hurtin' 'cause she lost her son
And the cops wonder why a nigga got a gun
I know my momma worried 'bout her son
But these niggas know it momma I am not the one
We ain't tripin' off no nerds
Nigga make a move, we ain't trippin' off no words
Bitch I got money, I ain't trippin' off yo' purse
And the Lord know my heart so I ain't trippin' off no church
I ain't trippin' off no sins that I know that I committed
I ain't trippin' off the pen
Thinkin' shit a game, you ain't trippin' off yo' head
Brodie bro be off them drugs, he be trippin' off the meg
They say I wear my heart on my shoulder
Now straight up in the wind so my heart got colder
Say they want me dead, gotta watch for the vultures
You niggas never emptying them guns you just loader
I try to tell DaBoii keep your eyes open
They gon' try an knock you off so keep that iron on you
'Cause I rather slide wit' you not to slide for you
And keep killin' on the verses 'cause we countin' on you
Now days all these bitches want me for some fame
That's why I don't trust 'em I just pass 'em to the gang
We be slidin' through them jets where you niggas don't hang
If a nigga want smoke then that's what we gon' bring
And I'ma die for my respect
Slidin', gang members hoppin' out wit' TECs
Nigga, I'ma die for my respect
Slidin', gang members hoppin' out wit' TECs
What you know about pain?
Never met a referee that couldn't tell me 'bout the game
I lost my nigga to some gunshots
Now we slidin' tryna make a nigga lungs stop
I know my grandma hurtin' 'cause she lost her son
And the cops wonder why a nigga got a gun
I know my momma worried 'bout her son
But these niggas know it momma I am not the one
I'ma die for my respect
Slidin' gang members hoppin' out wit' TECs
Up top aimin' ain't no reason for a vest
What we spent on these guns half of y'all would be in debt
So stop talkin' like you slidin' when you know you ain't that dumb
Try and take my chain naw bitch I ain't for none
Wit' this Glock 27, I'll take a nigga lung
Heard niggas want beef, I'll cater it for fun
We ain't playin' wit' you niggas, might as well stop talkin'
Fuck coppin' pleas lil' nigga stop callin'
Broke ass nigga, find a hustle, start ballin'
We want all the smoke yeah bitch we wan't all it
Over T.O. bitch I'm trippin' long clip Scottie Pippin
Speakin' on lil' brodie you gon' have to pay a visit
All up in yo' section, I ain't askin' for permission
Bullets wit' my name on it pussy nigga come and send it
Bitch!
Now days all these bitches want me for some fame
That's why I don't trust 'em I just pass 'em to the gang
We be slidin' through them jets where you niggas don't hang
If a nigga want smoke then that's what we gon' bring
And I'ma die for my respect
Slidin', gang members hoppin' out wit' TECs
Nigga, I'ma die for my respect
Slidin', gang members hoppin' out wit' TECs
What you know about pain?
Never met a referee that couldn't tell me 'bout the game
I lost my nigga to some gunshots
Now we slidin' tryna make a nigga lungs stop
I know my grandma hurtin' 'cause she lost her son
And the cops wonder why a nigga got a gun
I know my momma worried 'bout her son
But these niggas know it momma I am not the one
Now days all these bitches want me for some fame
That's why I don't trust 'em I just pass 'em to the gang
We be slidin' through them jets where you niggas don't hang
If a nigga want smoke then that's what we gon' bring
And I'ma die for my respect
Slidin', gang members hoppin' out wit' TECs
Nigga, I'ma die for my respect
Slidin', gang members hoppin' out wit' TECs
What you know about pain?
Never met a referee that couldn't tell me 'bout the game
I lost my nigga to some gunshots
Now we slidin' tryna make a nigga lungs stop
I know my grandma hurtin' 'cause she lost her son
And the cops wonder why a nigga got a gun
I know my momma worried 'bout her son
But these niggas know it momma I am not the one
We ain't tripin' off no nerds
Nigga make a move, we ain't trippin' off no words
Bitch I got money, I ain't trippin' off yo' purse
And the Lord know my heart so I ain't trippin' off no church
I ain't trippin' off no sins that I know that I committed
I ain't trippin' off the pen
Thinkin' shit a game, you ain't trippin' off yo' head
Brodie bro be off them drugs, he be trippin' off the meg
They say I wear my heart on my shoulder
Now straight up in the wind so my heart got colder
Say they want me dead, gotta watch for the vultures
You niggas never emptying them guns you just loader
I try to tell DaBoii keep your eyes open
They gon' try an knock you off so keep that iron on you
'Cause I rather slide wit' you not to slide for you
And keep killin' on the verses 'cause we countin' on you
Now days all these bitches want me for some fame
That's why I don't trust 'em I just pass 'em to the gang
We be slidin' through them jets where you niggas don't hang
If a nigga want smoke then that's what we gon' bring
And I'ma die for my respect
Slidin', gang members hoppin' out wit' TECs
Nigga, I'ma die for my respect
Slidin', gang members hoppin' out wit' TECs
What you know about pain?
Never met a referee that couldn't tell me 'bout the game
I lost my nigga to some gunshots
Now we slidin' tryna make a nigga lungs stop
I know my grandma hurtin' 'cause she lost her son
And the cops wonder why a nigga got a gun
I know my momma worried 'bout her son
But these niggas know it momma I am not the one
I'ma die for my respect
Slidin' gang members hoppin' out wit' TECs
Up top aimin' ain't no reason for a vest
What we spent on these guns half of y'all would be in debt
So stop talkin' like you slidin' when you know you ain't that dumb
Try and take my chain naw bitch I ain't for none
Wit' this Glock 27, I'll take a nigga lung
Heard niggas want beef, I'll cater it for fun
We ain't playin' wit' you niggas, might as well stop talkin'
Fuck coppin' pleas lil' nigga stop callin'
Broke ass nigga, find a hustle, start ballin'
We want all the smoke yeah bitch we wan't all it
Over T.O. bitch I'm trippin' long clip Scottie Pippin
Speakin' on lil' brodie you gon' have to pay a visit
All up in yo' section, I ain't askin' for permission
Bullets wit' my name on it pussy nigga come and send it
Bitch!
Now days all these bitches want me for some fame
That's why I don't trust 'em I just pass 'em to the gang
We be slidin' through them jets where you niggas don't hang
If a nigga want smoke then that's what we gon' bring
And I'ma die for my respect
Slidin', gang members hoppin' out wit' TECs
Nigga, I'ma die for my respect
Slidin', gang members hoppin' out wit' TECs
What you know about pain?
Never met a referee that couldn't tell me 'bout the game
I lost my nigga to some gunshots
Now we slidin' tryna make a nigga lungs stop
I know my grandma hurtin' 'cause she lost her son
And the cops wonder why a nigga got a gun
I know my momma worried 'bout her son
But these niggas know it momma I am not the one
Credits
Writer(s): Edward Theodore Riley, Bernard Belle, Dave Way
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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