Saints

I been having visions of some blood and cashin checks
Give a fuck about the critics I still think I'm up next
I'm sippin on the best and you know I'll spit this shit till death
Fucka with a few bands and a piece under the mattress
We ain't breakin any bread don't want nothin to do with you
Im doin what I do and I know you do what you gotta do
Wanna rep five nine with everything I got till I'm gone
Stop worryin about a bitch bruh go and get your hustle on

Gold dust in my pocket (yuh)
.45 and I cock it (back)
40 stacks in that profit (yeet)
Elton shades you know rocket (man)
All Saints cocaine off them gold plates
Passin lines and sinners fates death dates don't hit my phone with complaints
Ain't got time for your bull-shit (glock)
Fucked around and I pulled it (bang)
Bleedin out in that shawty (mang)
Snakes in grass so I mowed it (skerp)
Bitches know that I'm onnit
I jus want an old rolly
Glittery tones always answerin phones
This a game of the thrones got a bag of them bones

59 killa wanna BE somebody
Young gaz wit that YXTI boy we focused on the money
Sold sum soul to the devil visions of a Maserati
Fuck yo party bitch I'm only on that lean n sippin molly
59 killa wanna BE somebody
Young gaz wit that YXTI boy we focused on the money
Sold my soul to the devil visions of a Maserati
Fuck yo party bitch I'm only on that lean n sippin molly



Credits
Writer(s): Jordan Tressler
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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