Sub-10

Sub-10 how I run up these racks
Chef Nobu how I cook up these raps
Too live, I don't know how to act
Frito-lay how I'm bagging these snacks
How I'm flossing, you could tell I got plaques
Where the bread? Drop a pin on the map
When you talk about me talk facts
By the weed the only time I been smacked
Sun-down to Sun-up, yeah
She want to turn up and turn up, yeah
Pour up and burn all the kush up, yeah
Hit from the back with a leg up, yeah
Cross me once and it's done up
I'm 'bout to chef up a come up
Soldiers, I got a ton of them
Foes, I'm scared of none of them

La familia what I stand for
5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 toes
Working, strengthening my mental
Praying everyday essential
Writing history, no pencil
Paint the picture with no stencil
We not from silver utensils
Dirtied my hands to get pesos
Won't quit, I know God got me
Slim boy, but my pockets ocky
Loud stink like the dirty laundry
I'm real down to the mitochondria
News channel turn you to a zombie
Only organic vibes around me
Running shit so they want to clock me
Usain Bolt, I left them all behind me

Sub-10 how I run up these racks
Chef Nobu how I cook up these raps
Too live, I don't know how to act
Frito-lay how I'm bagging these snacks
How I'm flossing, you could tell I got plaques
Where the bread? Drop a pin on the map
When you talk about me talk facts
By the weed the only time I been smacked
Sun-down to Sun-up, yeah
She want to turn up and turn up, yeah
Pour up and burn all the kush up, yeah
Hit from the back with a leg up, yeah
Cross me once and it's done up
I'm 'bout to chef up a come up
Soldiers, I got a ton of them
Foes, I'm scared of none of them

Boy I came up in the town with them shottas
I got my spiritual game from the Rastas
We keep it player, we don't talk 'bout choppers
Nowadays it feel like cops is the robbers
I smoke papers, my brother smoke grabba
My shawty classy and she a rider
She stay in Prada and stay out of drama
H on my belt, it don't stand for Honda
Everything we drop is a missile
Saint Laurent on me like my initials
Just like a ref, you know I'm official
I got my stripes but don't got no whistle
I'm going up, you know that they hacking
You tried to play me, you know that I'm taxing
Low vibrations don't get no reaction

Sub-10 how I run up these racks
Chef Nobu how I cook up these raps
Too live, I don't know how to act
Frito-lay how I'm bagging these snacks
How I'm flossing, you could tell I got plaques
Where the bread? Drop a pin on the map
When you talk about me talk facts
By the weed the only time I been smacked
Sun-down to Sun-up, yeah
She want to turn up and turn up, yeah
Pour up and burn all the kush up, yeah
Hit from the back with a leg up, yeah
Cross me once and it's done up
I'm 'bout to chef up a come up
Soldiers, I got a ton of them
Foes, I'm scared of none of them



Credits
Writer(s): Anthony Leath, Spencer David Lee
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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