NEVER LATE

Take it over borders I ain't headed to LA
Rob on the computer it's gon' be a DOA
I don't wanna see inclusions sent the stones to GIA
I just pulled up to the EAU and now I'm burnin' every take
I can see 'em hatin' but the haters gonna hate
I know I'd really be hatin' if they makin' what I make yeah
I don't do no fronts 'cause all the fakers gonna fake
Put the 'Rari into sport I'm cuttin' up I'm never late

I'm 'bouta chug this Hamm's until I yack
I don't know what I'm doin' on this Earf
This blunt attackin' all my respiratory functions killin' nerves
And all my visions gettin' blurred
All I see is your bitches curves on me
We fuckin' to Murda Beatz
And I'm 'bouta UberEats a pound of weed
And smoke it 'til my soul is free
My pipes are frozen I don't feel my breath coming out my lungs
Feel like zero degrees
And I'm tearin' down Water Street
J One Low's stay on my feet
I'm tweakin' on the Pickle patio
Go back home spit bars like I'm Socrates
And I'm off a tab of acid
I can see the blueprints of the universe fall apart
Rippin' the cart stalling my heart my life is restarting
And yeah the holidays are over time to grind
We 'bouta let it shine way harder than the blood diamonds on yo greedy ass motherfucker's wrists
And I'm fuckin' yo bitch she poppin' like a cyst
Scars on my fists movin' mountains
Staining couches fuck I'm slouchin'
I'm always afraid of how I be soundin' damn
Can't stop tweaking won't stop geeking
Like a nerd who can't stop reading Deathly Hallows
Yeah I'm seeking for the snitch so I stay free

My mathematics
A trap habit please don't CashApp it
Stay off the drugs now they callin' me a cash addict
Why they talkin' like they really got it in their 'Gram captions
Look good in Gildan but I'm still wearin' this brand fashion
Tuesday pulled up with a new baddie
Had to focus on my paper so I took like two addies
Straight out Minnesota so I'm takin' all the ice they threw at me
And I put it on the navy blue Patek
Now the Stu' ain't even ready
I could hit 'em with a pull up or I hit 'em with a hesi'
I don't talk about the past 'cause all the money in the present
Didn't plug 'em like the Wi-Fi I don't need a new connection
Now they askin' for the static like a phone with no reception

Take it over borders I ain't headed to LA
Rob on the computer it's gon' be a DOA
I don't wanna see inclusions sent the stones to GIA
I just pulled up to the EAU and now I'm burnin' every take
I can see 'em hatin' but the haters gonna hate
I know I'd really be hatin' if they makin' what I make yeah
I don't do no fronts 'cause all the fakers gonna fake
Put the 'Rari into sport I'm cuttin' up I'm never late



Credits
Writer(s): Robert Buckley
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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