Pocked Watching

(album: Graduated From The Streets 2 - 2019)

Ay man you know
Don't count me out till I stop counting money (Bitch)
Yeah

Keep my money on me [?]
And I stay pouring up lean, no I don't drink no bombay
And that bitch better be bad like Beyoncé
If she ain't bad like Beyoncé, she get no play
All that pocket watching niggas doing, we gon' laugh at y'all
All this ice around my neck, yeah it hit like Pacquiao
I'm in the front, I ain't ever been in the back of y'all
And my earrings look like some fucking basketballs, ah

Bitch I graduated from the streets, I got me my diploma
I put biscotti in my Backwood, fire it up, I love the aroma
I get with your bitch, you know I'm gon' bone her
I'm rocking V-lone, you know I'm a loner
I ain't a hippy, you know I'm a stoner
Get hit with the stick, you gon' be in a coma, uh
I'm in that [?] on the back streets
We throwing 1s in [?] and we fifty deep
Go to [?] and make it rain, now we can't see our feet
They like my style, they like my drip, they say I'm so unique
And I'm never cheeks
Serve you at a meet & greet
You tripping 'bout your main ho, I fucked that ho like last week
Money stacking up, I stack that shit up to my knees
I'm making plays, I'm putting that shit together, Drew Brees

Keep my money on me [?]
And I stay pouring up lean, no I don't drink no Bombay
And that bitch better be bad like Beyoncé
If she ain't bad like Beyoncé, she get no play
All that pocket watching niggas doing, we gon' laugh at y'all
All this ice around my neck, yeah it hit like Pacquiao
I'm in the front, I ain't ever been in the back of y'all
And my earrings look like some fucking basketballs, ah

Yeah, earrings hit like Pacquiao
I don't know 'em, who is this guy? Why he tryna dap me down?
I walk in the club with my strap, they don't pat me down
And all they fake Instagram models, yeah they at me now, yeah
(Fucking for some cheap liquor and some hookah
I know you, I'm a king like muthafucking Martin Luther
Please don't push me, I'll shoot you
And the money sign?) That's my marker [?]
I'm 'bout to slam a nigga bitch, Lex Luger
And everybody getting hit, whoever next to you
Cold heart, [?] coats for the winter
She talking shit but she gave me head on the Sprinter

Keep my money on me [?]
And I stay pouring up lean, no I don't drink no Bombay
And that bitch better be bad like Beyoncé
If she ain't bad like Beyoncé, she get no play
All that pocket watching niggas doing, we gon' laugh at y'all
All this ice around my neck, yeah it hit like Pacquiao
I'm in the front, I ain't ever been in the back of y'all
And my earrings look like some fucking basketballs, ah