2nd Hand

Imma get fucked up just cause my uncle sipping Taaka Vodka
Imma serve J's just cause I know crime pays I do it proper
Tote that Baretta change the weather up like triple doppler
Never had no Crown Vic or a Charger
Cause I hang with robbers
Nigga I been having it
But you can't tell me I'm not talented
Imma serve my auntie but she bet not tell my momma shit
Sippin Yak I'm darn near pissin pain
Sniffin caine
I done watched all these folks position change
I could barely pass emissions now im switching lanes
Formed addictions tryna deal with pain
Signed petitions tryna see some change
But this shit still the same
I came out the darkness
I got that carbon
He got need some peroxide
I got that carbon
Kill em slow like monoxide
Yeah pockets blue its like they holding they breath
Walk inside the booth club I done let go of my breath
This ain't Wimbledon
No back n forth with simpletons
If it ain't bout that dividend
I'm discriminate
I'm lit like fuck Edison this the filament
I can't just fill you in
I can't just say we friends
I can't just sell you anything we gotta go within
My bitch from Ecuador
Cocaine compressor Benz
You talking all that ra ra I hope you crimson chin

Sippin Henny my granny used to put hems in my pants
All this we we like we from France
I had to change my stance
I can't rock with ya man's that nigga took the stand
And raised his right hand he working for the man
Talk mob ties yall niggas mob wives
All your stories just the sob type



Credits
Writer(s): Kyle Johnson
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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