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Weeks
I
ain't took my chains off in weeks If I
tuck it, they gon' try to kill me anyway And I'm praying to the
god of the
streets (God of the
streets) Way too big to be discreet anyway Hope I
fly on the
arms of my niggas (Arms of my niggas) Wonder why my heart cold, nigga soul got the
shivers Baby, I
ain't took my chains off in weeks (Off in weeks) Love that shit too big to be discreet (To be discreet) He tried to set me up in Dallas, broke into his own car (Hahahaha) He not knowing that I'm psychic, and I
glow in the
dark Light on us while in Houston, we got throwed in the
cross Sidestepping 'fore he could set me, punch a
hole in my heart (Ha) Cold quarantine game, I
looked over your flaws Big god, selling raw and I'm controlling the
cops (Ugh) Diamonds on my neck, that's a
symbol of success Run you up check, you gon' die for your respect Cautious who you entertain, they could be a
threat Out of pocket, pull up brrrr on you, leave you somewhere stretched (Stretched) Artificial dealers, all my visions then got clearer I
cross one in the
mirror, I'm gon' feel it in my spirit (Ooh) I
ain't took my chains off in weeks If I
tuck it, they gon' try to kill me anyway And I'm praying to the
god of the
streets (God of the
streets) Way too big to be discreet anyway Hope I
fly on the
arms of my niggas (Arms of my niggas) Wonder why my heart cold, nigga soul got the
shiver Baby, I
ain't took my chains off in weeks (Off in weeks) Love that shit too big to be discreet (To be discreet) G-Wag', G-Wag', big bag, big bag C-note, C-note Brr-brr, so much machine smoke Ooh only ones that ride beside me are the
ones willing to die though Now I
keep it underwater, just let it breathe Right there Just got this brand new thing, grrrah And then exchange when the
shots fired Reporting live with the
Glock .9 by the
Southside (Well, what up? Well) Recording live, bitch I'm in the
studio right now (Money 'bout) In Carolina, you could pull up on me right now (Pull up on me right now) We outside, yeah, ayy Hol' up, pour up (You dig?) I
glisten hard, my earrings, dawg This for Mazzi, Rollie, I
never take my chain off (Chain off) Never talking, I
give that, already take your brain off (Brain off) Quarter milli' glist', then I
wiped it on my wrist He be shooting shots at B.R.A.S.S. but his posture not like this, bitch I
ain't took my chains off in weeks If I
tuck it, they gon' try to kill me anyway And I'm praying to the
god of the
streets (God of the
streets) Way too big to be discreet anyway Hope I
fly on the
arms of my niggas (Arms of my niggas) Wonder why my heart cold, nigga soul got the
shivers Baby, I
ain't took my chains off in weeks (Off in weeks) Love that shit too big to be discreet (To be discreet) G-Wag', G-Wag', big bag, big bag C-note, C-note Brr-brr, so much machine smoke G-Wag', G-Wag', big bag, big bag C-note, C-note Brr-brr, so much machine smoke
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