Who's the self conscious? Lately I've lookin' at tags less Never leavin' store bagless Designer rags and conversations facists Wilder's a myth, theMIND is a gift I mean, so is gift No ashamed of my thread count In bed a girl who's not ashamed of her head gown Still I up with these cold sweats Forever get to it off Pray this woman fucks me Instant I mean, now I'm It's hard for a who never had shit to have shit You into that store front, paper or plastic? You for it My dad says the blessings will rain down I pray I stay now Asking like, "Am I lame now?" Because I'm still by peer pressure Craig says "survivor's guilt will probably get ya" Time spent is still like the real measure Of the four word I drip my ego in I wear bitch like a fur The only protection from the coast is the moments that I forget
Big bracelets, Rollies, big pieces can't save you VVS is dressed, say less When stress it ain't true (Fuck, bro) Cuban and pinkie rings and trinkets Diamonds, and gold, all in my grill...grill...
love Fuck a your lover, get some head-love Break bread with your niggas, burnin' bed Cause you don't need Fuck a nigga feedback We where the keys at You see, I'm only ever lost when I ask the trees at Milly through the pressure Middle fingers to the Niggas latchin' they simply missed the message, listen All this I be talkin', what's it representing? If I ain't what I'm talking What I'm talkin' Mostly niggas out here talkin' silly "We'll talk it, Mick" Lot of people like to around a point, I couldn't even bust a waltz around it I've been tryna one See a chance, know that I'ma one Only mobbin' with my day one Only for like 15 minutes in a different city I'm on tour More than a war tour, not a label whore I play with niggas color palettes, seein' silhouettes You see me takin' I'ma build on And it don't matter, I'ma chill on You can see it you see me always be me I can keep it real like
Big bracelets, Rollies, big pieces can't save you VVS is dressed, say less When niggas stress it true (Fuck, bro) Cuban links and pinkie rings and Diamonds, and gold, all in my grill...grill...
OK, the love of money root of all OK, the camel through a eye of a 'fore a rich man a rich man know heaven So I'm in bitch, no wrist band Movin', dippin', dodgin' the temptation been hasty, I be patient I've been maybed to be never heard from So when I got the I be spendin' like we Say, "he trippin'" till you check my 10 years you can check my talents I done up from a 2-4 from 5-10 I never been no type of man to hide his shit the dirt a smile beneath the hurt You can only do that when you that All those things that you had when you was up was stuff Without it like, Kith, its Just Us Who are you when no one's Most niggas crooked, they exposed It's always sunny until it's And you suppose That that door to the boat, will be open when you reach it it work out like before you I wouldn't bet on that though
Big bracelets, Rollies, big Jesus pieces can't you VVS is Best dressed, say When niggas stress it ain't (Fuck, bro) Cuban links and pinkie and trinkets Diamonds, and gold, all in my grill...grill...
Oh you never somebody say it's a different type of love? It is, and I'm j-, I just admitted that like, it is. It def- def- i-i-is like, I'm not that, like, I have to say that is, it is a different of love... (I told you that, 6 ago!)