Live 95

(album: Everythings For Sale - 2019)

I wish I could fly a jet with her
And have sex with her
All the Instagram, hoes in the world (the world)
Yeah my nigga the world, in the world (shit)
I wish I could smoke a blunt with her
And maybe fuck with her
And be in the cut with somebody
That won't run to my girl (no, no)
No, no, don't tell my girl, uh
Tell my girl, yeah

I said it's too much dough to be hurt, yeah
I don't know what I'm worth, yeah
I been broke since my birth, yeah
Too much hoes in my search, yeah
I sipped slow and got turnt, yeah

I hope you gripping what you love, 'cause they coming to steal your joy
How come every time we function, they telling us, "Kill the noise"
Why the fuck my baby mama keep saying I'm still a boy?
Find your bliss in the abyss and it probably could fill the void
I'm saying, boy, I ain't touch my ceiling that's probably from effort giving
Searching for better living, that shit come from repetition
I feel I've been less efficient, I feel I'm too pressed for bitches
Keep saying, "F them niggas", but still ain't address it with 'em
You stressing when it's

Too much dough to be hurt, yeah
I don't know what I'm worth, yeah
I been broke since my birth, yeah
Too much hoes in my search, yeah
I sipped slow and got turnt, yeah

Now if your pockets been low and your shit was all bad
Now your bitches all mad 'cause you getting to the bag
Put your hands up, yo, yo
All my niggas put your hands up
Ladies
Now if your beauty still glow and you got a dark past
And you know that you got class
Then go ahead and shake ass
Put your hands up, ladies, all my ladies, put your hands up