Yeah, Don
Yeah, yeah, yeah
She know what’s up, she rock with me, she gotta hold this Glizzy for me
That’s my b#tch, she got a business, I punch on her inventory
My homie posted on the strip, you know we gotta grib this forty
If my soldier make a hit, just trust me, it ain’t Ricky Morty
I ain’t worried ’bout you rappin’ n#gg#s, you ain’t that familiar
I get love from the trappin’ n#gg#s ’cause I had experience
Crib so low, I think they gotta crawl in like a caterpillar
Yeah, he told, he a rattin’ n#gg#, but that cat’ll kill you
Benson Boone “In The Stars” Official Lyrics & Meaning | Verified
Yeah, b#tch, you know we really drillin’
Bring confetti, I’ma sell them pills ’til I make fifty million
Pop out at them n#gg#s show, hit sh#t in the building
Skurby n#gg#, turn a rapper chain into some memorabilia
Dirty sipper, I’ma pour this drink, my cup filled to the ceiling
Pack of pills on me, I’ma take ’em like they penicillin
How I’m not gon’ trap when my oldheads was really the kitchen?
With them pigeons, so if sh#t don’t work out, then I still can get ’em
Brodie told me them boys cappin’, we know n#gg#s hurt
Hit that switch and cut the power off, and them n#gg#s service
Or catch ’em lackin’ at the crib, I damn near split the curtains
Pop two beams, put me up a six, I love to sip with Percys
Remember takin’ bird bass with the b#tch to Turkey
I had to go and get a bag, man, that sh#t was urgent
Everybody can’t be a star, you need a Kendrick purpose
They comin’ at the door, since when you n#gg#s get the curb?
Don’t get pedo rolled, I get ’em boys to green the go
Thirty-three eighty, and I got it from the fiend I know
Scammer b#tch, she send them numbers and give me the part
I ain’t gon’ lie, she really teach me, though, long as I keep it low
b#tch, y’all be tweakin’ tho
See this Patek, she gon’ f#ck or rip, I barely speak to hoes
Big chopper, keep a broom, I’m tryna sweep the floor
I only f#ck with shooters and the robbers, you n#gg#s be with trolls
She know what’s up, she rock with me, she gotta hold this Glizzy for me
That’s my b#tch, she got a business, I punch on her inventory
My homie posted on the strip, you know we gotta grib this forty
If my soldier make a hit, just trust me, it ain’t Ricky Morty
I ain’t worried ’bout you rappin’ n#gg#s, you ain’t that familiar
I get love from the trappin’ n#gg#s ’cause I had experience
Crib so low, I think they gotta crawl in like a caterpillar
Yeah, he told, he a rattin’ n#gg#, but that cat’ll kill you
It’s a dirty game when the shooters tellin’, that’s a thrill
How he sayin’ names? I seen killers tell on other killers
Caramel seats, I came up from sellin’ that vanilla
I gotta keep me some protection ’cause my section gettin’ realer
Boosie made it to see twenty-five, so I was worried
They either die or got twenty-five from the jeweller
I know n#gg#s you can’t rob, they gon’ die for that jewellery
I tell ’em, “f#ck it, if they catch you, we gon’ slide ’til they buried”
Ain’t no sense in dyin’ over sh#t that we can buy back
What, that boy gon’ need a casket? Tell his mama, “Buy that”
They slide through bangin’ drums, it sound like the hi-hat
They see my aura and where I’m from, you know I can’t disguise that
She know what’s up, she rock with me, she gotta hold this Glizzy for me
That’s my b#tch, she got a business, I punch on her inventory
My homie posted on the strip, you know we gotta grib this forty
If my soldier make a hit, just trust me, it ain’t Ricky Morty
I ain’t worried ’bout you rappin’ n#gg#s, you ain’t that familiar
I get love from the trappin’ n#gg#s ’cause I had experience
Crib so low, I think they gotta crawl in like a caterpillar
Yeah, he told, he a rattin’ n#gg#, but that cat’ll kill you
Find more lyrics at westlyrics.com
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