10 Of Swords

Fuck around and pop that pussy on a Tuesday
I know my times is coming up I'm calling that shit it doomsday
And truly living to this money pediculi
Said in god we trust but I think he's a truant
Living in these frequencies is getting stagnant
With this talent in my genes sewing deeply in the fabric
Eating beats like I'll need a gastric bypass
If you thinking any different go and lick my white ass
No swim we're the rap game a-team
Knew I was Hannibal's the day I turned 18
And it may seem Ive Gone a lil a crazy lately
But know if you see me falling I will land back safely
I'm gone

The bags thick and the cash
The fast getting it
Harder than crabs grippin' it
Pockets are fat just like the Michelin
Bitter than some cinnamon
Ladies and gentleman, here's what we're all presenting in
No Diving we the villians, pour a bottle of that Belaire
Sorry lord we all goin sinnin once again
Eyes closed moving faster than our dreams can predict
Now all I do is reminisce how me and the squad used to flip them bricks
Throwing phones out the window when we heard that click
Too slick for my own good just misunderstood
All I ever wanted is have that leather on that wood, respect in my hood
Good credit and a better life
Better than my past
Where the grass is always greener, where my neighbors name is Stan
Where his wife's a soccer mom and drives a mini-van
But the plot thickens, the heart grippens from dodgin all these
Young niggas
I'm sorry for broke bonds quicker, it'll give you the cold shivers
This shit is for the underdogs and all of my go-getters
Let your words be wise, and you paint a vivid picture
I'm gone



Credits
Writer(s): Brandon Friend
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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