7:45

I got songs, thoughts, opinions that'll you never fucking hear
I got my brothers right behind me, yeah, I keep them fucking near
They see on my neck, they judge, they're losing my respect
Yeah I couldn't give two fucks what you think about my fits yeah
I don't like the way they talk to me
Jesus Christ, it's only been a week
Why do you do what do?
Why you care bout me? Look at you
Look at you
Look at you
Why you care bout me? Look at

Yeah
Six thirty-five, Texas heat, sticky seat
What a time to be alive, smoke elite, for a week
Yeah He tryna play it off discreet, but he know I walk with cleats
Yeah
I keep shit peaceful, that's my niche
NPC motherfucker wishing he could walk like me
Jealousy make a motherfucker wishing that he talked like me
Fallacies out your mouth like an AR-15
I put your ass on blast like my name NBC

Seven forty-five
It's on sight
You tryna buy?
What's my price?
Seven forty-five
We keep it light
What a guy
He's pretty trite

Yeah, I know its been a minute
Was on a mission had to kill it
Lived the tale while they tried to spin it
But they was quiet when it was time to bring it
I do not fuck with these little men
All talk, but don't listen
You would've thought this was heaven sent
But I've been trying new things while you stick to your regiment
Seven forty-five
Motherfucker, it's on sight
You tryna buy motherfucker?
What's my price?
That's the difference between you and I, you just lie
Fuck the opps, bitch just stop, you've been caught, that's a lot

Seven forty-five
It's on sight
You tryna buy?
What's my price?
Seven forty-five
We keep it light
What a guy
He's pretty trite
Seven forty-five
It's on sight
You tryna buy?
What's my price?
Seven forty-five
We keep it light
What a guy
He's pretty trite



Credits
Writer(s): Peter Berle
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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