Cassettes

Yo (Babygrande Records), yeah, Wu-Tang shit
Yeah, burned grove, shawty woke bitch (whaddup, whaddup, whaddup)
My number (peace, yeah), 5-1-7, fuck you (yeah)

Gladys Knight pipes, lady day sun dress
Lays her hair where most niggas gun rest
She's craziest but the bitch never made me rich
Told me always on the day sun rest
But the hours always move like a nurses' shoes
And if my product doesn't move then you will assume
So I might as well hustle 'til my greens and bustles double
And I can't walk the street's so subtle
Raise your heat if your kids didn't eat
While employment, rock M1 and had steak for beef

You do 16 bars or maybe less
And carry as many sacks as you could stick in his chest
'Cause I be outside sitting at my desk
'Cause you push dope, I'm just tryna push 'Cassettes'
If she push sex, I'm just tryna push a lex
They embezzle, I'm just tryna settle my debts

You forgot, call me bitch, peace
Nazareth, from the bronze hall
Yeah
Yes, get me Mr. Cassette, the radio station, please



Credits
Writer(s): Justin Cross
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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