Gummies

God motherfucking damn
Shit boy, it's rough out there

Monday through Sunday, I work for it
I get it out the mud, out the dirt for it
Selling gummies in the burbs, start a turf war
Imma workhorse
Yeah I'm going Monday through Sunday, I work for it
I get it out the mud, out the dirt for it
Selling gummies in the burbs, start a turf war
Imma workhorse
Yeah I'm goin'

Gon work for it, til I skrrt foreign
In MOB we trust, found the church boring
Used to kick it in the burbs having nerf wars
Then my pops lost the crib, wouldn't work for it
All these hoes used to swerve, all them songs got heard
Now they memory a blur, she got curved for it
Dropping back from the rush like i'm Kurt Warner
They wanna ban me from the game like the first Jordan's
Get your girl horny, then we burn forest
And you gon be a fan when i'm world tourin
Aye, candy in the whip they trynna search for it
Well, you gon need a search warrant (Haha)
My momma worked the 9-5, I can't do that
On da I95, i'm pushing 95, like it's a ride or die
I can't go back
Pointing to my pearly whites like young Kodak
Why you all up in my grill?
When I pulled up with the hands it was "chill chill"
Turn my life into a film
Make a story bout my album, make some money off my talent

Monday through Sunday, I work for it
I get it out the mud, out the dirt for it
Selling gummies in the burbs, start a turf war
Imma workhorse
Yeah I'm goin Monday through Sunday, I work for it
I get it out the mud, out the dirt for it
Selling gummies in the burbs, start a turf war
Imma workhorse
Yeah I'm goin

Gang rollin deeper than store capacity
I hang with some demons so don't get mad at me
Nugs from the plug, we smoking rapper weed
Me and Zach floating up, zero gravity
Shit, I make em dance to my tragedy
Money for my kids that coming after me
On my Steve job, but i'm feeling like i'm Adam Eve
Damn, I'm taking bites out the apple tree
I'm only falling far as the apple did
Ion look like a rapper, ion act like a rapper, but the fact of the matter is
Half of these rappers wouldn't last if they had these kicks

Yuh, yuh yuh, yuh, yuh yuh (Breeo)
Yuh, yuh yuh, yuh, yuh yuh (Breeo)
Yuh, yuh yuh, yuh, yuh yuh (Gummies)
Yuh, yuh yuh, yuh, yuh yuh
Yuh, yuh yuh, yuh, yuh yuh, yuh

Bitch I'm on the brink, what the fuck you think?
Ice cubes in my drink, ice all in my veins
Frostbite on my chain, she think that I'm icy
Bitch I'm feelin shiesty like I'm Pooh
You don't like me, yeah thats cool
I got fans, I got fans, I got fans yeah

Ash a joint, drop a cherry
She pop her pussy, I pop her cherry
Hallelujah, Halle Barry
Those money trees lead to commissary
Love my shawty I will not get married
Just like my fam cuz these thoughts get scary
Get Plan B, if it's not apparent, I am not a parent
When I sip Bacardi, I stop the caring
We crash the party, up to no good
Mosh pit up in yo hood
When the cops here I hit the woods
Hit a wood just to decompress
I hit it good, hand on her neck
Just like I should, just like I should
But Sunday mornings I get depressed
(Breeo)



Credits
Writer(s): Braedan Omalley
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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