Everything

I got foreigns
Broads
Designer
Clothes
I can get you everything you wish that you know
I can even get you the pack
I can even get you the bag
I can even get you the racks
Gecman keep a sack
AyeKayy keep a strap
We smoking biscotti we put you in the air little boy, yea we put you in a pack
This life shit just got so real
Real
This life shit just got so deep
Deep
I use to watch these niggas hoop
Now they ass turn into a savage
How the fuck can you be suburban, then go to a gangster little boy turn into a demon
I don't even need to say to much, no dissing, I have no fucking reason
These niggas fuck niggas know we get the bread the lettuce in every season
Hey
Hey
I put a bad bitch on planes
I make the money yea rain
The money, yea bring no pain
With a white hoe, give me brain
She suck the dick, go insane
She fuck the kid cause my name
She fuck the kid cause my fame

Woah, woah
I'm with Oattzz in this bitch on God
We six deep with the whole damn squad
Before the money, all I had was God
Woah, woah
Smith told me about them boys, fugazi
Say they got money, but they lazy
Askin' for rides
Yea y'all crazy
Woah, woah
Y'all some clones, boy I'm OG
Sippin' this drank while I pee
Ain't purple or red, bitch it's green
Woah, woah
And we smokin' on hella trees
This that danky dank OG
Yo exotic can't touch this P
Yea, yea
This life shit just got too deep
Keep a thick bitch in my seat
Keep that heat tucked underneath

I got foreigns
Broads
Designer
Cars
Whatever you need lil boy, just hit me up
On God



Credits
Writer(s): Akthem Kassem
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

Link