Freestyle

Whoo
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, let's go
It's Gwaup
I'm about to fuck this shit up

Fuck a bitch, I block the number, but I feel like Iguodala
Like, come on, she got a good brain, like she just got a scholar
Like, come on, I'm tryna touch a M- (bro, I just need them dollars)
Like, come on, bro, got a case, he not even tryna say your honor

Bro's a menace, he a killer, he just like Jeffrey Dahmer
Pull up with sticks, and you'll get hit right in your shit, I'm saying, "No Diddy"
Curtis Jackson, I'm tryna get rich, or die trying like I'm 50
Like, come on, like Bossman Dlow said, "You might as well get with me"

Like, come on, I bring that heat, bro, like Miami, I'm Just Jimmy
Like, come on, they capping still, bro, and these niggas out here saying no kizzy
Tryna take over this shit for real, bro, this my city
We don't mention shit while we doing drills, we just busy

Feel like Ja Morant, bro, go for the bodies like Grizzly
Like, come on, we gonna spin and spin and spin until we dizzy
Like, come on, mean bro, back-to-back on play, like 'Bron and Wade
Like, come on, we just type the line, you up be giving out fades

I'm focused on money, nigga, I'm tryna get paid
It's not the NBA, bitch, you can't ask for a trade
Put my glasses on with a pea coat, I just feel like I'm Blade
Like, come on, I'm thuggin' in the trenches, I'm self-made
Put the grams right on the scale when the weed need be weighed
Like, come on, come on, come on



Credits
Writer(s): Traven Bryant
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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