One Way Flight (feat. Freddie Gibbs)

(Griselda) Yeah
Jansport J
Y'all don't ask me no questions, just listen to this...
Uh (Hit-Boy)

She catch a one-way flight to kick it wherever I'm at
So if she want to stay, then the -'ll never come back
You wanna know how a chip feel, I've been there once
This year three in the beginning of a ten-year run
And as predicted, my persistence got my name on all the lists
Had a brick before a rack, like that dope boy from Memphis
I survived all them death threats and three felony convictions
Plug found out my whole team was hot, he kept his distance

What's a stage with no mic and no voice of a poet?
What's more important, the flower or the soil that grow it?
Yeah, it's cool, but one rule, don't get caught in the moment
Or it's back to swingin' ratchets and warmin' up water
Starvin' made me thin, it ain't no mercy in this game we in
Odds stacked against us, had to play to win
I got a broad, I never saw her before 1 AM
I'm out west in Crazy Girls cleanin' out the ATM
Let's go

Phone so burnt, I need my pager back
Trips with that work, my baby made it back
I -ck with them hoes, I know she hated that
You gon' cry in that Toyota or this Maybach?

This for hustlers with straight cash, not -with fake bags
For - who fall in love with trappers and break bags
She texted my homie, but I'm -ckin' hers, she fake mad
These - can't handle a - they can't have
Unlucky for y'all, you know who the - is in charge
I put a couple in jars, let it fluff 'til it's hard
I'm at JAY house, Kerry James Marshall cover the wall
Enough cushion I could cover the fall, you know business is business
Business is business and they -' us all
You know how life go, you stuck with your flaws, what's that about?
They had me - up, -thought I'd suffer for long
I'm drivin'
Countin' money with hundreds on the Cullinan floor, uh huh
Put my hands together and I pray for the bread
'Cause I get five jail calls a day from the feds
Go to sleep with a alarm and a K on the ledge
And the fireproof thousand pound safe in the crib, ah

Phone so burnt, I need my pager back
Trips with that work, my baby made it back
I - with them hoes, I know she hated that
But you gon' cry in that Toyota or this Maybach?

Waist snatched
Rollie, she fake mad
Uh

I said - it, wasn't gon' do a verse
Bought some ugly white girl, when I whipped it, it's Miss Universe
'Migo brought the chickens on the bird, that's that Scooter work
I control my - OnlyFans, I got computer work
Freddie Kane
I keep a college - on the '94 with the waist snatched
Baby daddy bought her that fake Rollie, she fake mad
Butcher and the Rabbit, got damn it, check our credentials
Hoes get - and sent home early just like the Clippers
Is you with it bitch?

Phone so burnt, I need my pager back
Trips with that work, my baby made it back
- with them hoes, I know she hated that
But you gon' cry in that Toyota or this Maybach?



Credits
Writer(s): Fredrick Jamel Tipton, Chauncey A. Hollis, Jeremie Scorpio Pennick, Justin Keith Williams, Quincy D Jones
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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