Better Mood

That Morton put me inna better mood
For every plate I had my nigga had a plate of food

I was being dumb, had to play a fool
Cuz I was tryna win I wasn't tryna lose

Pretty little bitch got money I trust her
Money at the crib can't fit in this duffle

Script of perk 10s got my money on double
Think I made 100 off 101 hustles

Went on the run and I ran up again
This money is trapped its just 20s and 10s

He ain't see me clutching
This Score ain't for nothing before overtime ima shoot for the win

I sin, No witness
I want different color benz's
I'm from the trenches

All I hang around is murderers
With bad intentions

I don't hang around new niggas
I ain't tryna make new friends, I'm with gang I'm tryna win
We make more money...
Give me a pound in any hood and that's for sho money
Know I'll take a 9 on the eye for the show money
Could've brought a quarter ticket just to show money

Tryna get racks daily
I been getting racks daily

Fuckin' up racks and they pay me
Fuckin' up racks and they pay me
Prosecutors putting shit together
See my nigga through the glass cuz we can't sit together
I can't think about a time where i ain't have whatever
They pull up for pressure
They leave off with extra

Bought a pint of syrup
And I ain't wake up for breakfast

Let me in the back
Through the front I'm tryna check ya

Aw yea yea yea

Bought a lil chop from Brodie
Gotta mask up whole city gone know me

Put money on ya head it's the cold me
Ain't pay for that body he owe me

They treat me like OG
Told on by my Co - D

They like how u get that money?
Ran it up off OZ's

And still selling ounces
Outside ya spot, in a tent and I'm camping out it

They like how much you done spent
I ain't never counted

Don't rob the poor I take ya down you can live with out it

That Morton put me inna better mood
For every plate I had my nigga had a plate of food

I was being dumb, had to play a fool
Cuz I was tryna win I wasn't tryna lose



Credits
Writer(s): Makyrie Barnes
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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