Salt

I flew from the south and it's cold
I hope that I sell out my shows
I don't really move on the road
I count up my money at home

I flew from the south and it's cold
I hope that I sell out my shows
I don't really mess with my foes
I'm finding my peace on my own

My eyes gettin low
My body turn blue
Aesthetic the vibe
That shit keep you true
They hate on the kid but they don't know why
Ask em the reason and they can't decide
I imitate the greatest to do it
I get on the keys and nigga i prove it
500 The feet
Deadstock the release
Sage on my chest
And you know the rest

I flew from the south and it's cold
I hope that I sell out my shows
I don't really move on the road
I count up my money at home

I flew from the south and it's cold
I hope that I sell out my shows
I don't really fuck with my foes
I'm finding my peace on my own

First class but it feel like coach
I hope I don't crash
2 Mill in the bank It's keeping you safe
It really don't last
Get pictures from Ian
They hang on my wall
Them Days when I used to ball
And really just max out at malls
I'm scared if I lose it all
If I go to back to xannies and weed
I really relied on that tree
Some shit that I really don't need
I really was movin lowkey
I want the water with the palm trees
Nice crib and the big screen
All my niggas really tryna rage
Livin life on the front page

I flew from the south and it's cold
I hope that I sell out my shows
I don't really move on the road
I count up my money at home

I flew from the south and it's cold
I hope that I sell out my shows
I don't really mess with my foes
I'm finding my peace on my own



Credits
Writer(s): Blake Christopher
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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