94 Bentley

Burn it down, burn it down, speedin' down ready
Heaven don't let me down, comin' down heavy
Brooklyn guy, ridin' low in the Chevy
Make this '94 feel like a Bentley
Fucked up, turnt up, piped up, gripped up
Turnt up, tryna kill the pain with my sick cup
Fucked up, turnt up, piped up, gripped up
Whole block, whole gang prayin', I deliver
Fucked up, turnt up, piped up, gripped up
Turnt up, tryna kill the pain with my sick cup
Fucked up, turnt up, piped up, gripped up
Whole block, whole gang prayin', I deliver
Uncle Munsen in the corner playin' dominoes
He's a genius, trappers never make the honor roll
Oh, but to me you're the one though
Screamin' Rastafari 'til I die, sellin' cocaine gumbo
I'm just good at playin' dumb
Young chameleon seen the Rover with the paper tags
Spendin' paper racin', tryna get his childhood back
It's cool, he's back on road
Burn it down, burn it down, speedin' down ready
Heaven don't let me down, comin' down heavy
Brooklyn guy, ridin' low in the Chevy
Make this '94 feel like a Bentley
Fucked up, turnt up, piped up, gripped up
Turnt up, tryna kill the pain with my sick cup
Fucked up, turnt up, piped up, gripped up
Whole block, whole gang prayin', I deliver
Fucked up, turnt up, piped up, gripped up
Turnt up, tryna kill the pain with my sick cup
Fucked up, turnt up, piped up, gripped up
Whole block, whole gang prayin', I deliver
Now they would never stop, even if I fall
If I ever die, it's nobody's fault
Just don't let me down, just don't break my heart
In my '94 Bentley, I'm a fucking star



Credits
Writer(s): Carlos St. John Phillips
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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