Pound Cake
Phil made millions, James made millions
Coon went drop top Rarri, no ceiling
I'm just chilling, Omelly even spilling
Like Ace of Spade and Club LIV, we in the building
Pretty hoes to many flows the way I kill em
Give my cousin top my Bentley the way I'm feeling
Fuck this money and fuck these hoes
Same gear for a week, I'm like fuck these clothes
Pmon had bricks 'fore you had braces
My whips all black, I guess I'm acting racist
My bitch all bad, she half black and asian
Scream "sak pase" I guess I'm acting Haitian
Out in M.I.A with some real zoes
And no lame bitches around us they all real hoes
These niggas rap good but they weirdos
And if they ever disrespect me then it's air holes
They say do for self, that's a word to the third
But if my nigga can't rap I'll buy him a bird
All real estate, fuck it, I'm buying the curb
I buy a crib every week from the hood to the burbs
Making investments with this money I'm blessed with
Nigga tryna snatch my chain, that's a death wish
Riding through my city 57 thats the effort
You ain't never seen a nigga this rich and reckless
You niggas paying hoes just to stick around
Simmer down, Mulsanne how I get around
50 rounds through the town how I whip around
I'm getting richer so you know they wanna sit me down
It's DC, double M, know they hate us
Me and Ross both got rich but we ain't break up
Niggas falling out for the paper but try to make up
For the cameras, niggas might fool y'all but can't fake us
Pull up in the hood I put niggas on jets
Take 'em to Miami when they just was on steps
Selling green and serving fiends up in the 'jects
Packs still on 'em in the pool getting wet
They killed Dame set him on fire
And the crazy part that nigga was quiet
Niggas on obitchuaries like they flyers
Time is money so it's sky dwellers when we buy 'em
Rolex niggas, stretch like bowflex, nigga
Sellin' Instagram, feds takin' kodak, nigga
I've been rich since 24, you ain't know that, nigga?
And I was taught pay that man if you owe that nigga
Gone...
And all this shit I'm talking right now is straight facts
If you're from my hood, you know what I'm talking about
Spade-O
Meek what up boy, turn the beat up for me a little bit
Its your man Spade-O, DC, on deck, lets go
This that new philly du-op (Yup)
Who is you op (who are you?)
150 rounds in the o-op
I'm chasing big cheese
1 on 1 you can't get these (nope!)
Embalming fluid mixed with Mint Leaves!
We call it wet wet
My niggas jet set
Were always on the go
Y'all just get set
Meek made millions, so why can't I? (why not?)
Pull up that cranberry Porsche with the slant eyes
I don't get mad, I get motivated
Back to backing off foreigns we motorcaded
And I don't battle, I respect the war
Pull up that bullet proof caddy with the extra door
Stash box & the extra floor
Rock the world 24 bringing extra whores
Oh yea we about the pound cakes
You crumb snatching niggas ain't been around cakes
Saran wrap around the big blocks
And thats real rap I am hip-hop
You hear me rhyme, you can feel my pain and anguish
I don't do much talking, I speak the language
My crew too Live!
I'm in my new rise
Success go to the believers, i make my due wise
I'm at the game, in dem' floor seats
You got dem' nose bleed, barely in the door seats
Uhh
I'm getting fit for ring
Bezel on my presidential crown fit for a king
DC is like the army, better yet the navy
Niggas, acting shady so i grip my 80
So I, peep the blitz like I'm Tom Brady
I'm the, sure thing & you niggas maybes
Nah, I dont two stroke, or live the bike life
But I move coke, I live the white life
I'm the truth, why i got to lie for?
I was born broke but I won't die poor
Credits
Writer(s): Jason Hunter, Matthew Burnett, Aubrey Graham, Robert Diggs, David Porter, Anthony Palman, Isaac Hayes, Gary Grice, Jordan Evans, Matthew Samuels, Clifford Smith, James Eliot, Russell Jones, Corey Woods, Lamont Hawkins, Elena Goulding, Shawn Carter, Noel Fisher, Andre Proctor, Dennis Coles
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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