Don't Do It

I spent most of my twenties with a 30-round clip
I spent most of my twenties and I stashed the hundreds
You gotta warrant that ain't caught ya yet and keep running
I heard it all but won't repeat nothin'
I'm thuggin', I'm grindin', tryna get that check
Phone ringing off the hook blame it on this connect
You might get finessed, tell you no disrespect
Gave em all ones, got it from the stripper (bitch)
I ain't stressin', I ain't stresin', I ain't stressin'
I count the rest of this money when I finish countin' my blessings
You fucked up bout that bitch, I'm thinkin' bout her best friend
I'm guessin' that she restin', I just left her at the Western
She gave me a massage while you was sendin' text messages
She think she Nicki Minaj, I walk in my garage, I talk to all my cars
I load up all my guns and I ain't thought about tomorrow

Don't do it, don't do it (don't do it)
I'm goin' through it His big brother threw a cross cause he was mad about a bitch I was fuckin'
You can't control no pussy spared your wife you know how I'm comin'
Cali your boy pull up with chaotic and then go to dumpin'
I'm from where heroin bumpin', gum bumpin' we bump ya
Let loose and flush you then trunk you
Gangsta how I be comin'
Offset some Porsches get at me
I know you bitches can't stand me
One thang I love bout the game, you can't get stripes from pretending
I take shots, be shooting shit but don't no names'll get mentioned
Pussy bite then he fishin'
Or might be in they feelings
Talkin' shit bout guerrillas, then you might swim with the fishes
Before Gucci went to jail these other rappers was timid
He got his time, they poke they head out, now they talk like they killers
Criminal-minded all on Instagram, in public pretenders
I wish somebody would challenge me, was born a contender
Louisiana, no flex zone, we stay bout our business
Ridin' all through East Atlanta without tint on the windows



Credits
Writer(s): Kevin Gilyard, Jermaine Shute
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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