sack race

Hey
Escobar nigga
I wouldn't lie to you
Soul music nigga
Its 3.5 in my wood

I told my mama Ian going back to jail ma I promise
She say you learned ya lesson nah I'm tired of spending my money
My nigga ryo died that's one thing that Ian see coming
I had to cut off all my friends cause niggas folding like crunches
The only one up out the crew wit a conscious
Cause nun of us went to college
Cause we was tryna hold choppas instead of go get some knowledge
No your honor Ian do it wasn't me yeah I'm promise
Yeah I'm sorry mama crying through the glass
Cause this ain't what she seen for me
Heyyy late nigga robberies nigga don't move a thing
We was hopping out of mini vans like a soccer team
I can't make this shit up Ian never used maybelline
Niggas hating ima let dese niggas make a mockery
Unc told me to stay up in that bowl like it's pottery
Im my own friend cause I know Ian gotta lie to me
He mad his bitch let me up in her privacy heyyy huh huh

Ian in competition wit nun of you niggas
Ion believe you you ain't shooting nun of them pistols
Why you don't believe me told you Ian smoking no swisher
Bitch a nigga in his bag like a sack race (Cash)
She won't get a dime if she tryna sack chase hey

Fell out with my dawg bout a hunnid fina push up and go see bout my money
Don't answer calls niggas acting real funny
It was the principal nigga Ian really need it back
You could of picked up and told me thought we was better than that
Niggas who was day1 now they starting to envy
We was all broke together barely had 20
Niggas had more than me my pockets was empty
Uou ain't got no cash dem hoes won't show you no sympathy
Bitch I'm coming for everything I got
Bills due I got bills due tryna keep that rent paid swiping them BOAs
Yo bitch packing over night bags to come get away
Tomorrow I'll be dropping her right back off cause she can't stay oh no
Hard dealing with fake energy so I'm solo
How you tripping bout a bitch you broke the bro code
Told god Ian fucking broke hoes no moe
Been living life fast tryna live it slow moe

Ian in competition wit nun of you niggas
Ion believe you you ain't shooting nun of them pistols
Why you don't believe me told you Ian smoking no swisher
Bitch a nigga in his bag like a sack race (Cash)
She won't get a dime if she tryna sack chase uh uhhh hey



Credits
Writer(s): B Green
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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