Another Hit Another Shot

Hey Trac why you do that like that

Glock in the stash spot
Go against me a nigga gone blow something
Don't play me in front the gang
Ain't no one on one you know we gone stomp something
I really came from nothing
I'm really him I really made it nigga
Seven figures or better
While you niggas hating we getting faded nigga
Like woah woah woah woah woah woah woah woah
Another Hit
Woah woah woah woah woah woah woah woah
Another shot
I really came from nothing
I'm really him I really made it nigga
Seven figures or better
While you niggas hating we getting faded nigga

Young nigga trapped out just like the Dababy I need a mascot
Fuck all that friendly shit we are not cool until that cash drop
I don't trust the money counter
I count that shit with my bare hands
Can't trust these bitches for shit but I still let her count it
But she can not wear pants
I run the trap like its Vietnam
Millions in route you can see it coming
Beat up yo block you can here it drummin
Ran up them racks and we still running
It's been a day and we still thumbing
Two hundred bands still stunting
I need all my hundreds in pile separate them hoes by the thousands
Can't stand next to me if you too insecure and shawty a certified dick gobbler
I don't do it for clout lil nigga I do it in real life niggas is hiphoppers
It take you seven thousand in clothes to get her I get her in FlipFloppers
I hit in the back of the club she hit you in Saks who knew what the trip cost you
Woah

Glock in the stash spot
Go against me a nigga gone blow something
Don't play me in front the gang
Ain't no one on one you know we gone stomp something
I really came from nothing
I'm really him I really made it nigga
Seven figures or better
While you niggas hating we getting faded nigga
Like woah woah woah woah woah woah woah woah
Another Hit
Woah woah woah woah woah woah woah woah
Another shot
I really came from nothing
I'm really him I really made it nigga
Seven figures or better
While you niggas hating we getting faded nigga

I count that shit with my bare hands
Naw really I really did
Two hundred three hundred four hundred five hundred k
Hov called that a half a man
Five hundred in cash Lil nigga
Your favorite rapper probably never seen that much
I shoot you today I get out tomorrow
Still make it back in time for lunch
And still got a glock in the stash spot
Got rid of the Vette and copped me a Aston
Can't stop at no light if you dirty just start up the race
Clutch pedal and keep smashing
My dick went on soft but she keep smashing
She trying to get her some rapper kids
I fucked her at noon her sister at night
Now that's what they calling a rapper gig
Too many hoes too many phones I'm losing track of my own life
If I don't take a picture right now it's probably a waste cause I never put on twice
Unless it's certified real ice you know we wearing that shit in our sleep
I use to look up to Biggie and Pac
But now I look up to a better me Woah

Glock in the stash spot
Go against me a nigga gone blow something
Don't play me in front the gang
Ain't no one on one you know we gone stomp something
I really came from nothing
I'm really him I really made it nigga
Seven figures or better
While you niggas hating we getting faded nigga
Like woah woah woah woah woah woah woah woah
Another Hit
Woah woah woah woah woah woah woah woah
Another shot
I really came from nothing
I'm really him I really made it nigga
Seven figures or better
While you niggas hating we getting faded nigga



Credits
Writer(s): Christopher Jay Thomas
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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