Dwight Howard

I don't have no answers
So don't ask me no questions
Three felony charges
But I'm not a felon
There's right then wrong
You see life is a lesson
My ink are bullets
Cause I write with a weapon
A Minerva Owl
Creeping through the night hour
If you ain't selling weed
Then it's white powder
On that James St. Patrick
Feeling like Power
I only fuck with the brave
I don't like cowards
Got that nine on me
Feeling like Mike Powers
Took my Rockets to Atlanta
Like Dwight Howard

Smoking on that reefer smoke Sliding through the city slow
Fit black and white
With a little bit of indigo
Nina on my hip
Please don't make me let that semi go
Really not really though
Pretty thot silly hoe
Smoking on that loud
But I don't think she hear though
A nigga trying to dodge
Them white boys in them pennyloafs
Real shit I came from nothing
Got street knowledge
Then learned the game of hustling
Trained to kill I aim and bust it
Be target practice
If you thank I'm bluffing
Motor mouths ain't ever allowed
They come around
We change the subject
I'm still the same
I won't change for nothing
Foreign whip paint is custom
As of lately I've been on my shit
A couple hundred on my wrist
Riding with a super hot bitch
My one and only do or die bitch
Feeling like "Priest Andretti"
On some "SupaFly shit"
Call me Quick Draw McGraw
Because a nigga pop quick
Pistol got the impact
Of a super dropkick
When it shoot that hot shit
I only fuck with my click
I don't talk to them lames
Put em' on the blocklist
But now I got my phone on silent
Cause I just wanna sit in silence
I ain't answer so quit dialing
Even if you text I ain't replying
Bitches hitting my phone
But I don't feel like being bothered
Bullshit for birds
And I ain't got time for drama
Cause everytime we talk
It seem to be a problem
Your slick ass mouth
Gone make me go upside
Your naugat
That bitch a bad habit
So, you know I had to drop her Aye!

I don't have no answers
So don't ask me no questions
Three felony charges
But I'm not a felon
There's right then wrong
You see life is a lesson
My ink are bullets
Cause I write with a weapon
A Minerva Owl
Creeping through the night hour
If you ain't selling weed
Then it's white powder
On that James St. Patrick
Feeling like Power
I only fuck with the brave
I don't like cowards
Got that nine on me
Feeling like Mike Powers
Took my Rockets to Atlanta
Like Dwight Howard

Waking up early morning
Gotta thank the Lord first
Back to the money
Grab my keys and my charger
Roll a lil loud
Know that gas get me started
Car came with a chauffeur
I ain't gotta park it
Tinted windows
Approach the whip with caution
Just got a new pistol
I've been waiting spark it
Know stone cold killas
That'll cut out your organs
Know real drug dealers
That touch keys like an organ
As of lately I've been on my grind
Threw my watches away
Cause I ain't got time
Two Chainz
Guess I'm riding around
And I'm getting it
One of the finest out East Saint
But never mentioned
Foot down
Cause I'm on the grind like a skater
Swerving dodging pussy niggas
On my radar
You gone make me snap alligator
I'm just trying to move up elevator
Salute all of my real niggas
And middlefinger to them fake hoes
A better life is what I prayed for
Gunpoint better do what I say so
I'm from where niggas
Do drive-bys in church clothes Genocide been the squad
I just lay low
Better now than never
Bout to take over
I just gotta watch
Who I roll with
And I never switched lanes
Cause I'm focused
Blowing strong making faces
No emoji
Gutta bitch riding with me
And she tote heat
Trying to keep this hot shit
At a low speed
And if you don't know about it
Then it's low-key
I get it I get it I'm losing my mind God is my witness I'm on the grind
I cut niggas off
Because I ain't got time
Stay with loose change
But won't drop a dime Bitch I!

I don't have no answers
So don't ask me no questions
Three felony charges
But I'm not a felon
There's right then wrong
You see life is a lesson
My ink are bullets
Cause I write with a weapon
A Minerva Owl
Creeping through the night hour
If you ain't selling weed
Then it's white powder
On that James St. Patrick
Feeling like Power
I only fuck with the brave
I don't like cowards
Got that nine on me
Feeling like Mike Powers
Took my Rockets to Atlanta
Like Dwight Howard



Credits
Writer(s): Emmitte Prince
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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