More Years

I might play something

Rather be with me than fake friends
Big butt, got a little stomach
Tattoos and a few kids

High school, she was a good girl
These days, baby, like to take meds
Holdin' up, 4s, screamin'
Free the bros got locked, had to do a bid
Got locked, had to.

If I tell them slide, they gon' come get ya
Aw, man, remember one-sister
Told me i had to take her out the city
Get her litty, had to show her somethin' different

Had the time of her life
Boy, I'm gon' swipe, we ain't take no pictures
You get one season, then we done speakin

Told her, pop another one, then another one
Baby, we ain't done geekin
Took another nigga, bitch, boy, I'm on some shit
Give me one reason

Woe died, now she fucked the bros
Bitchs, too slime
Mob ties, it's ah Finesse Gang
Nigga, two times

Placing the Glock on the mantel
Thought I was lit with a champ suit
Feds on my ass, don't believe that
I rap, but won't give me a chance to

How I'm feelin'? I don't wanna answer
I'm in this bitch with a dancer
Umi at home fightin' cancer
I gotta fill up the pantry
I'm about to click out and.

Not with the talkin', just want him to grieve
Ain't got no time to be shootin' the breeze
I got some hoes on the line, I'ma leave

Boy, I'm the pick of the pack
They say that I lost it, they must've lost me
Well, they gettin' me back

Whoa, you either rich or you famous
Either a bitch or you dangerous
I see the picture that's bigger
From different angles

Eye to eye with the demons
We different angels
See the ingredients, you just see the label
The fuck is a chair if you ain't got a table

You see the money in chains
Don't let it change you
I can't shame you
I should be ashamed too



Credits
Writer(s): Rashad Stephens
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

Link