Caught Fish

It be hard to make it out, but I'm the golden ticket
I know you see these niggas foul, ref blow the whistle
When them times get hard, you see who really with you
When you ridin' in the car, you better use your rear view

I done put in all this pain, I need a white Cedes
But for the chip on my shoulder, I should i8 it
I should probably call Warner Brothers, cause my life crazy
And I keep my circle real small, like a lifesaver

It could happen any day, you can't call hits
I know if they let me in this game, I'ma cause fits
Walkin' around, I ain't see shit, I left them mall pissed
You could probably catch a contact from strong whiff

Big glock, he keep it on his side, he got a strong hip
Whole team full of dogs, yeah, we all pits
These niggas can't fuck with me at all, they better call quits
With these hooks and lines, I'm surprised I ain't caught fish

Baby, I can't share my heart with you, I think it bled out
I ain't have nothin', but I never held my hand out
(Never held my hand out)
Brodie makin' plays in the field, he really ran routes

The way he wave around that stick, he look just like a wizard
It be snakes in the grass, right next to the lizards
I'll put that shit on, won't even take a picture
Gettin' paid, I don't hate, I'm tryna make it richer

Birdie movin' weight, he don't never be a L.A. Fitness
Yeah, these packs from the Bay, you can tell they shipped it
Got a shooter like Ray, he can hit from distance
The way I rub my palms together, you can tell they itching

Pre's Only Child



Credits
Writer(s): Job Alexander
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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