Yeah, where we at?
Mr. Jackson
Ooh, my love
What else?
〈Verse 1〉
They say you better safe than sorry, don’t get caught without it (For real)
I say you better late than never, in my darkest hour (You know it)
I’ma be late to my own funeral procession (That’s real)
I couldn’t live with myself if I was 6ix9ine (I couldn’t)
Made it out, skin of my tooth, in the nick of time
I get ecstatic every time the juice hit my line (The good drink)
Silver lining on the Glock with the stepladder
Switch it to automatic, this b#tch shoot like fifty times (Grr-r-r-rt)
In a matter of seconds, it’ll shatter your vests-es
Shell casings all on the scene, scattered in panic (Uh)
Left the ‘spital arm sling, head wrapped in a bandage
For all his unpaid debts, that’s collateral damage (Let’s get it)
I don’t mean to boast, I don’t mean to brag
But I keep a ki’ of coke, Ziploc freezer bag (Uncut)
Blew a chalupa with my jeweler playin’ freeze tag (Cha-ching)
Real Don Juli’, caught a million-dollar bean bag (Blocks)
What else?
〈Chorus〉
Still quarterbackin’ plays on the east side (East coast)
On the fly, runnin’ routes like a screen pass (Go long)
In the field, man down, flag on the play (Ay)
Stand down, ’cause I know that bag on the way (It’s on)
Watchin’ out for the blicks from the weak side (Yeah)
Had to pull a couple skits when my peeps died (Doo-doo-doo)
In the field, man down, flag on the play (You know it)
Stand down, ’cause I know that bag on the way
Let’s get it
〈Verse 2〉
Got that bl#wj#b Betty jackin’ my fiends off (Yeah)
Down in KY Jelly, they call me Jack and the Beanstalk (Blockworks)
Wish that my n#gg# Del was here; for him, I shed a tear (Delvin)
Poured out a case of Moët and a fifth of Everclear (That’s my n#gg#)
Why should I ever care? n#gg#s wasn’t ever there (Ay)
Servin’ n#gg#s on a silver platter, Mr. Belvedere (What else?)
We went from piss poor to slumdog millionaires (Yeah)
Off pounds, pills and birds, nouns, syllables and verbs (〈.?.〉)
In town ’til the third, lockin’ towns and the ‘burbs
Ghetto version of the Rothschilds and the Bilderbergs (Mob)
227, La Familia, that’s a lot of killers
Whole lot of gang sh#t, it’s mafia, what else? (Gang gang)
Creatures of the pavement, we don’t rock with snitches (Naw)
Ain’t gotta pay to take the hit up out of you myself (Grr-r-r-rt)
Rose from the concrete with the black petals
Steppin’ on that Bamm-Bamm, I had to smack Pebbles
〈Chorus〉
Still quarterbackin’ plays on the east side
On the fly, runnin’ routes like a screen pass
In the field, man down, flag on the play
Stand down, ’cause I know that bag on the way
Watchin’ out for the blicks from the weak side
Had to pull a couple skits when my peeps died
In the field, man down, flag on the play
Stand down, ’cause I know that bag on the way
Let’s get it
Find more lyrics at westlyrics.com
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