Bruh

I've been gettin' it since the sixth grade (yeah)
Ah, shit
Let me see if some of y'all can relate (SNOFALL, fuck, man, shit, yeah)
Like '05 Visions (yeah)
Hundred deep, every nigga with a champagne bottle (ayy, get to it, yeah)
Snoman shirts for everybody (yeah, yeah, yeah)

You already know, bruh (know, bruh)
You done seen this shit before, bruh (bruh)
They just wanna see you dead, bruh (bruh)
Bitches, they just want your bread, bruh (bruh)
Tryna dodge the blue and red lights
Rollie lookin' like some headlights
Call my trap house the bakery (Gangsta Grillz)
That's where they keep the bread right

I been gettin' it since the sixth grade (sixth grade)
Water whippin', I'm the best out (yeah)
VVS, yeah, the water stone (water stone)
Type of shit to make you stick your chest out (woo)

Left the lot, bought a gold chain (gold chain)
Water boilin', talkin' lo mein (yeah)
You love money, but you hate fame (hate fame)
Gotta pocket full now that's loose change (yeah)

Paper lookin' like a notebook (notebook)
Chinchilla flow, need a coat hook (woo)
See, I graduated from the dope game (dope game)
Give a dope beat, I write a dope hook (yeah)

Tell them niggas this a hit, bruh (hit, bruh)
Tell them bitches this a hit, bruh (hit, bruh)
Jizzle back talkin' shit, bruh (woo)
Swear them niggas snappin' like a pit, bruh

Yeah, you already know, bruh (know, bruh)
You done seen this shit before, bruh (bruh, yeah)
They just wanna see you dead, bruh (bruh)
Bitches, they just want your bread, bruh (hey)
Tryna dodge the blue and red lights (red lights)
Rollie lookin' like some headlights (headlights)
Call my trap house the bakery (woo)
That's where they keep the bread right

Bank account like a phone number (yeah)
I just gave your bitch the wrong number (who?)
I don't fuck with no fuck niggas, you the type of nigga get along with 'em (yeah)
So what that really say about you?
What the streets say that might be true (hey)
Real nigga nothin' like y'all, if the kitchen funky spray Lysol, now, look

You can tell them niggas this a hit, bruh (hit, bruh)
Tell them bitches this a hit, bruh (hit, bruh)
D-Rich on his shit, bruh (woo)
Swear he got it poppin' like a zit, bruh (yeah)
Red dot on the 40 Hindu (Hindu)
Backstabbing niggas, Ginsu
Take 'em out the hood, have 'em livin' good
Spend up all his money then sue

You already know, bruh (know, bruh)
You done seen this shit before, bruh (bruh, yeah)
They just wanna see you dead, bruh (bruh)
Bitches, they just want your bread, bruh (hey)
Tryna dodge the blue and red lights (red lights)
Rollie lookin' like some headlights (headlights)
Call my trap house the bakery
That's where they keep the bread right, look

Ha, haha
I got my mojo back, baby
Hoe, behave
Snoman
Who me?
Mr. Thanksgiving



Credits
Writer(s): Jay W Jenkins, Dwayne Leon Richardson
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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