You Right

Diamonds on my neck and a nigga stay high like private jets
Cause a nigga got now don't care who next and it's evident now the don the best
Kill a nigga whole squad to say the less, and I really said less to say the least
Ain't a nigga right now can tame the beast, you can see the fangs hangin' through the Teeth
And they let a nigga free, no cage, no leash, everybody is the wolf and lions feast
When a nigga touch green, let grind increase, if the money meaning time, let time Increase
Ain't nobody that's alive within' my reach, I be chosen for the game and smooth as Fleece
Isley brother when I'm in between the sheets, when I'm flowin' I be in between the beat
Yeah, bottle on the rocks, everything is cold, lookin' like a Pharaoh, I'm just dipped in Gold
In Egyptian cotton, these expensive clothes, I'm so fuckin' hot, I should drop and roll
I wanna' make it to the Forbes list, peasant niggas' can't afford this
Now they got me at the top (Whoa), sharp Shooter, let a shot (Go)
OJ but no bronco, blue j's, no Toronto
"Cool J" but no hollis flow, a nigga wave the thing, a nigga vamonos

New j's, you right, gold chains, you right
Bad Bitch, you right, you mad that you right
In that seven series, you right
Rockin' Audemars cause you right
In that cashmere, it's all white
I think you mad that you right, you right
You mad that you right, you right
You mad that you right, you right
You mad that you right, you right
You mad that you right
In that seven series, you right
Rockin' Audemars cause you right
In the cashmere, it's all white
I think you mad that you right

If you say I think I'm better then you right
If you think I'm out my mind then you right
Ain't no need to argue homie cause you right
I don't wanna' argue wit' you, so you right
If you say I think I'm better then you right
If you think I'm out my mind then yeah you right
Ain't no need to argue homie cause you right
I don't wanna' argue wit' you

Started out at very bottom, now I'm climbing to the very top
Raised around them real hustlers, whipped it up just like Betty Crock
Automatik wit the Audemar, auto-pilot in the automotive
Automatik wit the audio the way I'm on the track just like a locomotive
I wanna' make it to the Forbes list, paper chase, we getting more lit
We pop bottles, y'all pop shit, got a top model and she topless
Top speed, I'm in a fast car, mistaken it to be a nascar
Two-Twenty on the dashboard, wit' the hammer on it's like "Asgard"



Credits
Writer(s): Limel Small
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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