South of France

Face me, face me on God
I mean take me, take me away
Another 100 bands, then I'm puttin' me on
Maybe it's grace
Tryna fuck some money up before the sunet
Tell my city I ain't done yet
(Woah)
Hey
I'm from the country like I'm Luke Combs
We went from city to city to find a new home
Mom studied law and then I broke it
This life gave me a shot and then I scope it, close range
I don't wanna leave
My heart stopped then I found it on my sleeve
I wear my jewelery but it's hidden underneath, cause for
Cause for that chain I did some things you wouldn't believe
I'm Nasty
I have everything but am I happy
I guess my answer to it's "not exactly"
I gave em credit like a school, like an academy
Come and battle me I'll have you leaving in a hearse
(Wooh Wooh Wooh)
Get a little money we don't gotta agree
It made me who I am I had to do this to me
Nobody that surrounded me could get through to me
But I don't ever trip I said it is what it be
But I don't care still
Mercedes got me thinkin' I should blow a bag for real
In 2-6 months I'm worth at least a half mil
I'm worth a half a dozen maybe it's a bad deal
I don't listen when these lames start preachin'
My dawgs neck is retired for the season
My dawgs neck like we do this for a reason
We don't fight opps we fightin' our own demons
Raise me, raise me on God
I mean face me, face me today
100 bands, and then I'm puttin' me on, I mean
Maybe, maybe it's grace



Credits
Writer(s): Arthur Guilhem
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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