Brazil

My lil' bitch from Cali, her ass is from Brazil
Trust me, I'm the truth, so I don't care if it's real
I just smoked a fatty, she just popped a pill
Bitch, it's on it, poppin', bout to make it pop for real
My lil' bitch from Cali, her ass is from Brazil
Trust me, I'm the truth, so I don't care if it's real
I just smoked a fatty, she just popped a pill
Bitch, it's on it, poppin', bout to make it pop for real

Heard it through the grapevine Lil' bitch, nigga, wasn't tryna pay homage
in the 8 5
I was really movin' pound cross state line, wait, I'm
Tryna take time like grape wine I gotta great mind, heart, and soul
That a nigga can't take from me
Basically, they try to keep me round
Just to hate on me
Had a convo, that I need a lil' more work pronto
Don't never try to pass no fronto
Mouse locked in, Wavy stepped up All you other motherfuckers need to catch up
Everything I drop sounds like a best of
Funny thing is, I ain't even next up
If they let me on they'll know that they done F'd up
Pulled the Lex up,
Some days I wish I could still hit Lex up
Best luck,
It was real but not the best love
Still ten toes with my chest up,
Guess what
What Yo?
Bounce, bounce, bounce with me
Two bad hoes and an ounce with me
Got them bouncin' ass on the balcony
Turn this shit to gold like alchemy
Man, I give this shit my soul every ounce of me
Just for people that are there to be doubtin' me

My lil' bitch from Cali, her ass is from Brazil
Trust me, I'm the truth, so I don't care if it's real
I just smoked a fatty, she just popped a pill
Bitch, it's on and poppin', bout to make it pop for real

My lil' bitch from Cali, her ass is from Brazil
Trust me, I'm the truth, so I don't care if it's real
I just smoked a fatty, she just popped a pill
Bitch, it's on and poppin', bout to make it pop for real

Found God, now the doubt gone
Got a nice lil' beat, I can bounce on
Gotta listen to your album with the sound off
I just hit a flip, gotta pound off
Gotta stay the fuck from around y'all
Y'all ain't really down dawg
Stacks still underground sound like a groundhog,
On a roll like a ground ball
Buss it, buss it, baby, buss it, buss it baby
Let the tray pound off,
Oh my, what a beautiful feeling
What's life like, wife and the children
Still Tin in his feelings
Give my heart and soul to this art I flow
Still they don't feel it
Lotta hate in the room, I can feel it
Lotta love in the room, I'm a realist
And I realize, they don't know what real is
Try to talk to my homies that the world gave up on
Put my feelings in a raw and I puff strong
Then I write about life till my buzz gone
Okay, let's hear it, bro
Lost my dog bout a year ago
Used to hit his boost and he chirp back
Yo, bro, where the work at
Don't trap no more, tryna find where the work at
Now I wonder if the earth flat,
Cause I really ain't around now
Outta town now,
With a pretty little round brown
In a townhouse, running from my pain, as the hourglass countdown
And my cry's getting drowned out, by surround sound
Keep it down now



Credits
Writer(s): Dominic Martin, Marcos Morgan
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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