May 30th

I just hope the feds ain't tripping
Bout the money that I made
Yeah you know we got
The good grades and
We got the high grade
Fuck that low grade
Yeah we getting paid
I'm tryna be off in the shade
I'm tryna count the rest of
The money I made
If I didn't make it
I don't know what
I would even say
I couldn't take it

So I gotta go harder and
Switch up my bars and
Take it way farther
Thank you to my mother
Thank you to my father
Thank you to my brother
Yeah I need all us
To win this year and
Next year and
Survive this shit
Getting tired of this shit and
I don't even give a damn bout
Nobody else bitch
Cause I got my own bitch
Mane listen
As the world spin
The pain begin damn
I don't wanna sin
I ain't tryna get locked
Ain't tryna go stop
On a red light
I'm tryna reach that green and
I'm not tryna act green
Shouts out my fam
Shouts out DJ green
Yeah we got the team
We going up top that's the oh oh
Yeah you know that's Cleveland
Back to Richmond
Shouts out new york too and
Dc
You know where we be
Bring ya heat
Every single song unique and
You know I made the beat
Every single beat
I ain't tryna cap
I don't need that
I had to relax
Cause mother fuckers tried to
Make me clap and
I don't need that
Can't try to fight a case and be on the race
Nope I ain't doing it
I ain't fucking my situation up
Cause I gotta get up
Off my
You know what and
Make these bucks in the
God I trust
It's only one too so don't
Try to make two
I know what you do
Don't even come through
Smile on my face when
I'm in the bank
Yeah they let me in so smooth
Yeah I know what you do
Gotta call it in
Over the phone
I be off a the dome
I be off a the phone
Yeah my flow my own
Yeah I know I'm grown
Made my own dance up



Credits
Writer(s): Sterling Ogletree
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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