DEAD (feat. Rasean Parks & Don Lee)
Yeah, Yoah
Alright
Aye turn off the reverb for me
Yeh I don't like it no more
Add it back later
Yeah, yuh
Candy coated paint on her lips
Tastin' purple codeine on her kiss
Snortin' candy cocaine off her tits
She gotta Birkin hand bang on her hips
Bitch you, dead
Bitch you is dead to me
This money is dead to me
These niggas is dead to me
Bitch you, dead
These diamonds is dead to me
Everything dead to me
You always been dead to me
She gotta Birkin hand bag on her hips
Now I- now I got her on my wrist
If you talking money imma listen
And now she rollin' rollin' rollin' on the tip
Bought a commercial cruiser
Now I got all these sutures
Crashing like karma do ya
Plugging my ears from all the rumors
Caught a body now I'm catching tumors
Can't really trust people closest to ya
Only trust me yeah that's how I do ya
All these Benjamins must be talking
Dead Presidents
I see dead bodies walking
Riding with the strap
Keep it in my left pocket
Safety always off
I don't even gotta cock it
Candy coated paint on her lips
Tasting purple codeine on her kiss
Snorting candy cocaine off her tits
She gotta Birkin hand bang on her hips
Bitch you, dead
Bitch you is dead to me
This money is dead to me
These niggas is dead to me
Bitch you, dead
These diamonds is dead to me
Everything dead to me
You always been dead to me
She gotta Birkin hand bag on her hips
Now I- now I got her on my wrist
If you talking money Imma listen
And now she rollin' rollin' rollin' on the tip
I've been flipping packs since the 7th grade
Feel that
Tried to lock my up said Imma menace
Bitch I'm still that
Keep it on the low she drop it low
Then I kill that
I ain't had no money for the strap
I had to steal that
Put me on them papers
I'm still getting papers
And a bitch always chase me
I never finna chase her
You ain't got no blicky
Heard you moving with fucking taser
Pin drop on yo man neck
Then I feed him to the fucking gators
Uh, uh
Bitch I'm undercover
I ain't got no rubbers
She wanna ride
Bet you she come over
Just like I done told her
Nigga don't cry
Done this since October
Lucky like four leaf clover
I'm on the vibes
Talkin' like i'm Sosa
Doin' what I'm supposed to
We on the rise
Candy coated paint on her lips
Tastin' purple codeine on her kiss
Snorting candy cocaine off her tits
She gotta Birkin hand bang on her hips
Bitch you, dead
Bitch you is dead to me
This money is dead to me
These niggas is dead to me
Bitch you, dead
These diamonds is dead to me
Everything dead to me
You always been dead to me
She gotta Birkin hand bag on her hips
Now I- now I got her on my wrist
If you talking money Imma listen
And now she rollin' rollin' rollin' on the tip
Alright
Aye turn off the reverb for me
Yeh I don't like it no more
Add it back later
Yeah, yuh
Candy coated paint on her lips
Tastin' purple codeine on her kiss
Snortin' candy cocaine off her tits
She gotta Birkin hand bang on her hips
Bitch you, dead
Bitch you is dead to me
This money is dead to me
These niggas is dead to me
Bitch you, dead
These diamonds is dead to me
Everything dead to me
You always been dead to me
She gotta Birkin hand bag on her hips
Now I- now I got her on my wrist
If you talking money imma listen
And now she rollin' rollin' rollin' on the tip
Bought a commercial cruiser
Now I got all these sutures
Crashing like karma do ya
Plugging my ears from all the rumors
Caught a body now I'm catching tumors
Can't really trust people closest to ya
Only trust me yeah that's how I do ya
All these Benjamins must be talking
Dead Presidents
I see dead bodies walking
Riding with the strap
Keep it in my left pocket
Safety always off
I don't even gotta cock it
Candy coated paint on her lips
Tasting purple codeine on her kiss
Snorting candy cocaine off her tits
She gotta Birkin hand bang on her hips
Bitch you, dead
Bitch you is dead to me
This money is dead to me
These niggas is dead to me
Bitch you, dead
These diamonds is dead to me
Everything dead to me
You always been dead to me
She gotta Birkin hand bag on her hips
Now I- now I got her on my wrist
If you talking money Imma listen
And now she rollin' rollin' rollin' on the tip
I've been flipping packs since the 7th grade
Feel that
Tried to lock my up said Imma menace
Bitch I'm still that
Keep it on the low she drop it low
Then I kill that
I ain't had no money for the strap
I had to steal that
Put me on them papers
I'm still getting papers
And a bitch always chase me
I never finna chase her
You ain't got no blicky
Heard you moving with fucking taser
Pin drop on yo man neck
Then I feed him to the fucking gators
Uh, uh
Bitch I'm undercover
I ain't got no rubbers
She wanna ride
Bet you she come over
Just like I done told her
Nigga don't cry
Done this since October
Lucky like four leaf clover
I'm on the vibes
Talkin' like i'm Sosa
Doin' what I'm supposed to
We on the rise
Candy coated paint on her lips
Tastin' purple codeine on her kiss
Snorting candy cocaine off her tits
She gotta Birkin hand bang on her hips
Bitch you, dead
Bitch you is dead to me
This money is dead to me
These niggas is dead to me
Bitch you, dead
These diamonds is dead to me
Everything dead to me
You always been dead to me
She gotta Birkin hand bag on her hips
Now I- now I got her on my wrist
If you talking money Imma listen
And now she rollin' rollin' rollin' on the tip
Credits
Writer(s): Deon Wallace
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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