We Aint the Same

This some shit I can bump to
100 counts Ima run thru
I'm the man I could front you
Pull up in a coupe solo but da trunk full
N... I will punk you
Ain't nothin cute
Except my bitch
She in another coupe
With a brick
They know this ain't nothing new
It's Money Mitch
Gold chains round my neck rubber bands on my wrist
Mimosa all in my lungs Champagne when I piss
Applied da pressure u know that we fin win
Some Say it's a gift I just say it's a given
They hate cuz we winning gettin rich f... bitches
N... this just how we livin
You don't know my struggles
You ain't felt my pain
You ain't lived my life and you ain't played this game
Why I move how I move I could never explain
Some things can't be taught
This just the way I was made
We ain't the same
We aint the same
We aint the same
We aint the same
I need some shit that I can bop to
Weigh it on the clock to
Hit some blocks screaming out fuck the cops to
Ima boss I am not you
If I like it ima buy it if I love it ima cop two
Drop two candies in my sprite it's dirty
Two fat ass woods I be pearlin
Ass fat pussy tight as a virgin
She gonna buss it for a real one in the back of the burban
Drop her off off and get back to the bread
Paranoia nightmares bout the feds
Ten blunts to the head I'm on edge
As long as they printing its Money Mitch til I'm dead



Credits
Writer(s): Mitchell Gipson
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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