My on my sleeve Straight face I grieve Put the on the ice Edgar Allan up, lean on me The deuce, the up too damn quick Shawty me, I was 9
like a path through gardens Green plants, nigga a Soon as I get the man, liquor regardless Uber to the pussy, I'm on my balls in the Balmain No plan, movin' with no Wonder why I'm feelin' Same old of trife, oh Plan on the cycle 'Til lil' shawty me them nudes Then it's back to the titties and tight Thank God for that God for bottle She a copy And she know Smino be feenin' for her Head game She a with the fuck Right now I'm on a No to butter you up
My heart on my Straight face when I Put the on the ice Allan Poe'd up, lean on me The deuce, the Growed up too damn Shawty me, I was 9
So I don't really want to talk my feeling in here Any, meeny, mo mo mo mo whiskey to spare? my bottle now she counting her tears Said lately she been on the mountain of fear Of May be I open up to yo inquisitions bout your people's and expect me to sit and listen And they don't like my ass I know, I my bad Big trouble in little She say can't even kill a nigga wit kindness, lost on mixtape, dammit where did you find it? Opportunities knocking, you ass thru that front door Put your pride in lymph nodes Know this is so cut throat And a heart don't mean if you ain't using it
Yeah, (Yeah, yeah) Yeah, (Yeah, yeah) Yeah, (Yeah, yeah) Yeah, (Yeah, yeah) Yeah, (Yeah, yeah) Yeah, (Yeah, yeah) Yeah, (Yeah, yeah) Yeah, (Yeah, yeah) Yeah, (Yeah, yeah) Yeah, (Yeah, yeah) Yeah, The Father, The The Father, The The Father, The