STG (feat. Milan Credle)

This that grimy gutter shit
That make your mother's stomach sick
I spit saliva venomous
I swear to God
If this shit don't pick up quick
I might just pick me up a stick
And hit my click gonna hit a lick
I swear to God

Due to frustration
From the inflation
Losing my patience
Been tryna make it
But this shit taking
Most of my life it seems
Tired of chasing these dreams
Catch me blazing before I sleep
head in the clouds
Lungs in the trees
You don't want smoke
It's hard to breathe
blood in my eye
It's hard to see
She too shallow
I'm too deep
Fuck up my mind
Fuck up my peace
Guess I'm a dog
Off of my leash
Life's a bitch
She running the streets
Scratching the itch
Probably in heat
Cause she out here fucking everything
She see

This that grimy gutter shit
That make your mother's stomach sick
I spit saliva venomous
I swear to God
If this shit don't pick up quick
I might just pick me up a stick
And hit my click gonna hit a lick
I swear to God

This that grimy gutter trick
Treating all you niggas sick
Bet that pharmacy ain't shit
I really walk with God
If this shit don't pick up quick
Aye flush it down so it won't stick
My squad is clean so we don't mix
That's on God
Watching the throne
These rappers be claiming they on
Mhmm
Watching these women
They desperate for love on reality shows
But reality shows
I'm just that nigga
who giving the protein for muscle
I'm giving that dough cheese to hustle
I'm breaking through customs
A king has arrived
better recognize
Move out the way
Cause it's televised

This that grimy gutter shit
That make your mother's stomach sick
I spit saliva venomous
I swear to God
If this shit don't pick up quick
I might just pick me up a stick
And hit my click gonna hit a lick
I swear to God



Credits
Writer(s): Milan Credle
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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