Morning Calculations

Aye, aye, aye, aye, aye
Damn
La musica de Harry Fraud
When you really got a goal, you gotta stick to it
I wake up early in the morning and grab my calculator
More M's in my bank got a ring to it
I can't trip off what you think 'cause you been a hater
I'm in the SF 90, plates Montana
Still active, run up on this coupe, then FN clapping
I re-up, then I cop again
So don't trip, I'm 'bout to drop again
You won't get it 'less you know what you want
I hit the blunt, and then I hop in the Ghost, get to writing my goals
All that fake shit getting exposed
You gotta sacrifice some time with your lady to get some dough
80 nights on the roads, 90 something for the Rolls
Hunnid something for the platinum, and that's when I'm casual
Shh, so I ain't trippin' off shit
Cause first they love you, then they
Hate you, then they love you again
Uh, aye, aye, aye, aye, aye
And I need all hundreds
You can keep all them twenties and shit
I'm a whole 'nother beast when it come to this shit
Pulled up sippin' a juice while I'm clutchin' a stick
And one thing I don't do is ask niggas for shit
I'm a grown ass man, I pass niggas and shit
I got so much options, man, it's hard to pick
So don't check me, little nigga, check that bitch
Walked out the dope game, still had nine zips
Them bright lights in Las Vegas made it hard to quit
Same nigga from the block, I just happen to rap
We ain't never have a job, we was having a trap
Nigga know how I rock and nigga know you a cat
Ship a hundred on ground and put a navi on that
When you crossin' state lines, man, you gotta be cool
But real talk, if they on you, then somebody was rattin'
Don't be callin' my phone askin' me what happened
Ever since a young nigga, I ran it up with a passion