Trophy Son

Belly Belly Belly Belly Belly Belly Belly

Nigga I am elegant
People look at me and say "damn that boy intelligent"
I remember opening the app seeing 11 cents in my bank account
Momma look at me now
Generous cause I got degrees on degrees with no student debt
A real people person I think I should run for president
(Fuck It) think I should stay in bed instead, and sleep

They call me Belly
But you can call me Sydney's Makaveli
Going up to old ladies, say let me carry, its looking heavy
I'm made of love
Nothing about me is dark or scary
But if you hurt those I love too bad you're getting buried
Two years married and yes I still think about her daily
She loves me greatly but she still worries about my safety
My words are weighty and at times they could seem crazy
Until I'm about 85 I wont be pushing daisies

Even when it happens I wont die from doing shady
Shit I'll probably die from rabies, that dog in Haiti
That bit my arm he probably thought that shit was hella tasty
He's probably trying to be a good dad and feed his baby
Driving Miss Daisy, I spent the day with Morgan Freeman
Just me and God hanging out, battling demons
Almighty squad make them laugh until they look Korean
See I'm not trying but you're buying
Bitch its Belly season

Belly Belly Belly Belly Belly Belly Belly Belly



Credits
Writer(s): Angel Monsanto
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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