London Pound
(专辑: Everybody Is F.O.O.D. 3 - 2019)
[Berner:] Yeah, Machine, what up? This a
vibe Cooking Soul Vacation house cost a
quarter milli' for the
week From rubber bands on the
wrist to VV's on the
new Philippe We got a
different reach, I'm global plus your boy a
mogul A
million pounds at the
ranch house in Acapulco Rare Polo and vintage lenses, I'm whipping Benzes Rest in peace, they killed my lil' homie for his necklace Don Pérignon, all this shit I
smoke is strong Mow the
lawn, the
snakes in the
mix, I
want 'em gone I'm out in Brooklyn moving, just broke the
digi' scale They broke, they wanna see me fail, 'cause their bag is stale Crab cakes and cocaine, convos with the
real cartel This shit fly, the
work your plug got is hard to sell Conway, I'm on one, a
hundred in my carry-on The
fast life is beautiful, it doesn't last very long NY, we ready, branded baggies in my 'telly, yeah Bulletproof Chevy and my shooter's hand steady [Conway:] Yeah, talk your shit, playboy I
mean we running this shit right now We got something special on the
way too Look Came up moving sixty-twos, making raw sales Baking soda in that pot, it make that raw swell We ran it up, that money doing cartwheels Cake me jake, I
don't let time imagine how my dawg feel (Free brodie) We at Nobu eating crabs, you know, the
soft shell (We eating good) Whole lot of Gelati, I
keep my cigar filled (Smokin') Scorpion stamp all in them bricks, that's from the
cartel (Uh-huh) Bag heavy, pick it up, it feel like I'm lifting barbells, yeah Turkey Backwoods, smoking out the
pound London pound wrapped in my vibe, I
don't fuck around (Uh-uh) Fuck around, one of my guys come and buck you down Gun you down, shoot up your corner with a
hundred rounds, yeah The
sound provided by Cooking Soul (Uh-huh) Came in this game from out of nowhere and I
took control (I took shit over, nigga) Rocking my jewels, I'm going to see one of my Brooklyn hoes A
hundred thousand last month, that's just from booking shows My bro just took a
loss, it hurt him to his soul (Damn) He lost a
hundred, UPS workers done took his load (Niggas grimy) Yeah, we came a
long way from cooking O's (Facts) Now it's a
driveway full of foreigns, bitch, look at those, woah You niggas broke, I
can tell I'm 'bout to drop this new shit and it got that GOAT album feel You niggas talking all spicy, well how much did your album sell? (Nothin') Nigga, I
would've still had the
bag if I
ain't have no album deal, for real