Bernard King
Gotta dozen shooters in New York, Bernard King
All star every fuckin year
Ain't got no ring
Ru$h hour flow
Straight through traffic
Bitch I'm swervin
Imma young balla
Like that nigga Kyrie Irving
Niggas hatin, get em pinged
Leave em bleedin, cause a scene
I don't give a fuck
Nigga get your money up
Me and Jason pulling up in a purple Brinks Truck
Me and Jason pulling up I got a purple cup, uh
Gotta dozen shooters in New York, Bernard King
All star every fuckin year
Ain't got no ring
Ru$h hour flow
Straight through traffic
Bitch I'm swervin
Imma young balla
Like that nigga Kyrie Irving
You rather have someone love you for lying
Or have em hate you for telling the truth
They don't fuck with me
You know which one I choosed
Thug it out, you gots to see it through
Volume shooter, on my Melo Anthony
No chips but he did it for the city though
Not me, could give a fuck about a legacy
Only mattered to those who want to remember me
It's not many
Friends of convenience and context
It's empty shells living without a conscience
Reminiscing, conversations about last time
Thinking last time should've been the last time
Then last time came, without no warning
Blindsided, couldn't properly mourn it
Real talk there was things I should've did
Like been more like
What's his name
All star every fuckin year
Ain't got no ring
Ru$h hour flow
Straight through traffic
Bitch I'm swervin
Imma young balla
Like that nigga Kyrie Irving
Niggas hatin, get em pinged
Leave em bleedin, cause a scene
I don't give a fuck
Nigga get your money up
Me and Jason pulling up in a purple Brinks Truck
Me and Jason pulling up I got a purple cup, uh
Gotta dozen shooters in New York, Bernard King
All star every fuckin year
Ain't got no ring
Ru$h hour flow
Straight through traffic
Bitch I'm swervin
Imma young balla
Like that nigga Kyrie Irving
You rather have someone love you for lying
Or have em hate you for telling the truth
They don't fuck with me
You know which one I choosed
Thug it out, you gots to see it through
Volume shooter, on my Melo Anthony
No chips but he did it for the city though
Not me, could give a fuck about a legacy
Only mattered to those who want to remember me
It's not many
Friends of convenience and context
It's empty shells living without a conscience
Reminiscing, conversations about last time
Thinking last time should've been the last time
Then last time came, without no warning
Blindsided, couldn't properly mourn it
Real talk there was things I should've did
Like been more like
What's his name
Credits
Writer(s): Kwesi Newton
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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