Godfather

All the cards on the table, I can't do no more surprises
Only loyal to the family, my moves is Lucas Brasi
If the boy ain't on his shit then I can move em off the potty
Put 40 in the clipper all my shooters Luca Doncic
Nigga we ain't bout to kick less the game is 4th and 30
I ain't really into talkin' let the paper do it for me
To the point you gotta pay for what I say when I'm recording
But please don't hit my line about no rap go hit up Cory
All three 7s dipped in ice this the jackpot
I just need the paper in the picture like a backdrop
Watched a nigga run a hundred k up with his laptop
Started on the bench but end up living on the blacktop
Posted near the sea, waist deep, got me waterlogged
Probably never thought I'd finish on how I started off
Married to the money under common law
It's cool to spot the zeros just remember where the commas fall
Count em all

Aye we in and out, it ain't much to talk about
When we send the route, ain't no double back, shoot it now
We can't stand around, leave that to the niggas in the stands
Aye we really in the field, they be living through they mans
HDMG, time is money, we need the Ms
Make a movie watch the whole team ball above the rim
You can hate it or love me I'm tryna win
Guarantee, if you put Nice on it you get a spin
We gon' keep everything in house, you'll never know
Never need your handout, can't put me on
Imma throw ice on her because she cold
And keep her cold, keep gettin' these pros
Naw dog can't come around I heard he told
Get jammed, won't make a sound, I never fold
Uncle Sam, put tax on it and get it sold
I been in my zone, I won't be here for long

Lewciano, made man, ain't no getting by me
Drop a loaf on your head let a nigga try me
Watch your tone when you talking, I been getting money
Call me Lewie but I'm Gucci, all my bitches love me
We the godfathers, distro, that's a mob problem
Whip blacked out, not gothic, I'm a hot topic
I can pull baby, no buffs, cause I'm so cocky
Ghetto boy, put a TV screen in a old monty
Real humble, told the police I ain't nobody
Had to cut off lil' mama cause she sometimes-y
You got squares in your circle you can't come 'round me
Thought I was smart, got to college and was dumbfounded
Looking for that one bag and I done found it
Even out here on my ass I was one thousand
5 Star restaurant with the Italians
Going up another story, lobster in my ravioli



Credits
Writer(s): David Hill-gray
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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