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SBTV Warm Up Session
I
won't stop grinding till my cash is right Pen house suit got the
flashing lights I
don't give a
fuck if my album drops I'm a
platinum in the
streets I've got a
thousand shots All I
do is make money I
don't chase women Hopped out the
coup ten chains swinging Chill on my block build a
paper plane I'm in the
streets to race, no sega game Everyday is the
same, they changed the
name But I'm still slanging up in taylor's lane I'm the
club with a
strally on my waist line Holds 12 but is guaranteed to spray nine They wanna know when the
mix-tapes coming out While I'm hoping these bricks ain't running out Filling out the
clientèle, giving out free yays Stepping on the
powder, cocaine dj'ing Moving keys but I
keep loosing p's And I
hardly get high cah I'm immune to cheese My p's going up and down like sand in an hour glass Call me Mr Burns I'm the
man with the
power-plant I'll be chilling with my young bucks 30K on my neck, swinging like some nun-chucks Chilling on the
strip bait, but I'm out here spending like at this rate I
got the
Nina I
don't lift weights I
paint pictures, I'm nice with the
words The
only thing cheap about me is the
price on them words Close your eyes when I
get in the
zone Got a
quarter 'mil line this ain't a
regular phone, They be watching my p's, I'm stocked up with cheese It stinks so I
gotta spray my block with febreeze If them hoes ever see how I
knock off them keys When I
tell them give me brain they will drop to their knees Go over seas, get my mind straight Left my workers with a
line and 2
keys, something light weight Certified trap-star, I
ain't gotta say it And I
don't ever see the
food, I
let my shotters weigh it Hoes looking at the
pinky when I
change gears I'm out here moving onions, these ain't tears With the
AK, I'll hit you up from long range Got my weight up, a
couple friends have gone strange Just spend 7G's to make a
1000 back My neighbours see them birds flying out the
trap Get your facts straight before you diss my team And I
ain't got a
girlfriend, I
sold that bitch a
dream Lord forgive me, I
done a
lot of dirt I
break down keys so this rap shit ain't gotta work I
stay on my grind, my work rate great Tell a
bitch if she ain't fucking on the
first date skate Them hoes are pinging but I
ain't replying Cah my phone keeps ringing, I'm always supplying If I
go pen, I'm shooting grade on the
wing And its looking like I
spilled lucozade on my ring 5
bricks gone in one day, I
trap hard The
mix-tape got more bangers than a
scrap yard Whoever thought I'd me moving these bricks Copped a Q
then I
blew like a
Crip Must be crazy if you think my jewels are fake Every time my phone rings I'm loosing weight Its like I
gotta ride out on my jack jones Cah man ah keep talk bait on the
tapped phones I
don't care about views on the
net Hands on cah my workers ain't moving correct Heavy jewels on my neck, so I
cruise with a
tech And if I
pull it out, I'll leave your goons on the
deck Ask about me, I've been in birds view Still hungry like the
day I
bought my first Q
Times have changed if them paigans have switched sex I
sold a
billion O's but I
ain't rich yet Chilling on my block, bare clowns about They werent around when I
was in the
bookie, down and out Happy when I
went broke and I
had to consign a 7
How you like me now? I
pull up in a
9/11 I
ain't made a
wack song yet Told my youngers to put me a
chain, stacks on deck I'm A'Jd out, used to wear denim clothes Niggas thought I'll never blow when I
started selling draws Wrapping out all night I'm soo knackered Me and lil T, united like Old Trafford With my delivery, if I
was in this industry id clearly sell But I'm caught up in this scary world, ain't no fairy tale
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