HOME Lyrics – Mike Dimes

HOME Lyrics by Mike Dimes

This young boy from Texas so excuse my grammar
Big booty my standards, D’USSE and Fanta
If I’m in the scene, I’m flexin’ in the camera
Check my fellas, we all flock the same

We birds of the same feather
We together, this forever, switchin’ bezels, every level
Me and Cinco push that two-door coupe
Ain’t none of this sh#t rented

Servin’ vicious, f#ck your favorite rapper
Hope he get offended
I was trippin’ off that hoe before but promise I ain’t trippin’
I was trippin’ off them Ksubi jeans but now my closet drippin’

Designer, got a bag and I couldn’t be prouder (Nah)
Drop a song and your status went nada (Nah)
In the booth if I’m tryna get proper (Yeah)
I was a schoolboy just tryna get collard greens

Homie outside with Alicia Keys
I make money from mics, they make money from fiends (Yeah)
[?] got me them tickets at Regal
So f#ck what’s illegal

I’m different, I really ain’t get a handout
I know half of these rappers were gimmicks (On gang)
I write my own lyrics, I bought my own pen
All the [?], all my songs, screamin’ “f#ck your opinion”

No need for a n#gg# to say that I’m winnin’
It’s f#ck everybody, the way I been feelin’
I got me a b#tch and my b#tch got a b#tch (On God, on God)
So they down for a threesome, n#gg# (On God)

This young boy from Texas so excuse my grammar
Big booty my standards, D’USSE and Fanta
If I’m in the scene, I’m flexin’ in the camera
Check my fellas, we all flock the same

We birds of the same feather
We together, this forever, switchin’ bezels, every level
Switch a Lambo’ for a Chevy, backseat heavy from that heavy
Want a bad b#tch with the fetti, when she ready, b#tch, I’m ready

f#ck the sex, I want that Becky, gimme Becky if you let me
I whip slow, my cook game steady, turn that boy into spaghetti
I could ask a partner in my camp to handle somethin’
They just do it like they beefin’ with Adidas (Yeah)

b#tches poppin’ p#ss# for the same skinny n#gg# droppin’ music
Ain’t nobody have believe it (Yeah)
Took a couple Ls, I ain’t tweakin’
I got money to help all my reasons (Yeah)

I got shorties from all major regions
I jumped in the water and claimin’ the deep end (Hold on)
Different money I’m countin’ onm shorties I’m poundin’ on
I know them n#gg#s is pissed

I’ma put a new Patek on by my b#tch silicone
Then I’ma double again
n#gg#s ain’t solid, I don’t claim a friend
Because when I was knockin’, you ain’t let me in

n#gg#s lose vision all over the p#ss#
Respect the whole gang ‘fore a blue Benjamin
Witness everyone say that I’m up
I was stuck at the bottom, you ain’t give a f#ck

I don’t care for a b#tch, I ain’t searchin’ for love
And I ain’t trust a soul if he ain’t from above
I ain’t surfin’ the wave, I got lost, f#ck a [?]
When I got in the game, I was sh#t out of luck

They would look at my pain and they ain’t help me up
If you mention my name, say, “I don’t give a f#ck” (b#tch)
This young boy from Texas so excuse my grammar
Big booty my standards, D’USSE and Fanta

If I’m in the scene, I’m flexin’ in the camera
Check my fellas, we all flock the same
We birds of the same feather
We together, this forever, switchin’ bezels, every level
Find more lyrics at westlyrics.com

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Mike Dimes Lyrics – HOME

Mike Dimes

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