Womp. (feat. Premo.Dee)

Pull up in some thing they never seen before like
Introduce you to my world it's foreign just like
Studio the gym and Fed Ex truck is where I bees at
I knock down every door and you still asking where the keys at
Gossip oh I fucking hate gossip I don't need that
He at places they imagine, I'm like Max I'm with the dragons
I'm the Mac who split your Apple close your book like where your keys at
I'm fucking around you ducking the pressure, I still apply it
I hate applying for jobs
But I'd rather be sad with money
Than depressed and broke
My pockets fat they obese
I got cheese, I got bread, I got these I got those
I got head in this rental I hold
Cause like a month ago
My lil hoopty went and got totaled
Damn
I got some issues that I'm solving of course
I had I dream I hit the Grammys and won all the awards
You always saying something but I'm tired hearing your voice
You sound like Charlie Brown parents stop talking cause it's

Similarities show differences apart from our ways
I love my niggas till they act out like a part in my fade
I got memories of Teliviv that I ain't never seen
So preacher man please, if I don't rise then let me be
It ain't easy on my side I can clarify yea
I'm in the crib momma sees me, she can tell I'm high yea
This is surface level, I've been in a sunken place
By the time that I find my way, I may have been won the race
If Sally leaves my pockets lone, I could be rich by May
But separation issues strain so I make time from 10-8
Consider it a paper chase, but it feels like a pay-to-play
Situations pop up quick
Turn around like they beyblades
You talk a lot but substance lacks
So I ain't hearing shit you say
Every time your mouth it moves
Sonically it stays off pace like



Credits
Writer(s): Lance Jackson
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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