Seven Figure Habits Lyrics – Pouya & Fat Nick

Seven Figure Habits Lyrics by Pouya & Fat Nick

Ayo Lil Mexico, pass the gas
They want the old Fat Nick, back on b#llsh#t
Popped a lot of percs now I pop a lot of Glocks
If you see a bad b#tch, I f#cked her and all her friends

I spent my money on some guns, got some diamonds and some drip
This a seven figure habit, [?] can’t get a casket
I been rich for way too long, these is facts I don’t be braggin’
See that Porsche roof drop, 556 pop

Every IG model want my dick but they get cropped
In the club twenty bottles of that Hen’ I pop ’em off
In the streets .30 clip, who or where, we let ’em off
This a big body, we spin on anybody

And we ain’t movin’ half bricks, we talkin’ big money
The Hellcat make a lot of noise, sound like a Glock shot
Your man, he talk a lot of sh#t but he a broke f#ck
Sendin’ opps to the grave by the dump truck

If you the last man standin’ have the pole tucked
It’s a blitz when I pull up, [?] when I pull off
If that b#tch ain’t suckin’ dick I tell that hoe to pause and skrrt off
You broke, don’t want no issues

My pistol come with some tissues
These perkies don’t make me miss you
You thuggin’ so keep it with you
Remix Sprite, yeah, these bullets might, yeah

These diamonds bright, yeah, keep duckin’ it’s on sight, yeah
Road runnin’ demon, chop a pack, ain’t never catch me lackin’
Ain’t need no scammin’ just to get my bands up, what I’m stackin’
Baby Bone put 24’s on that Vogue

You b#tches still whippin’ Volvos
Fanboys take photos
Hoes take they clothes off and offer me bl#wj#bs for nothin’
You expect me not to accept?

How you get me naked and then you come for my neck?
Every move I make is calculated, all for the set
As the hate grows, as do the bankrolls
So we keep everything from MAC-10s to flamethrowers

Too deep in the HV yellin’ “why the f#ck you hate me?”
I just wanna make my money and music [?]
So I keep it off safety
Know my enemies wanna take me

Six feet underneath the ground but it don’t f#ckin’ phrase
Yeah I walk a tightrope knowin’ one day I will fall off
But until then, keep the gloves on
Might hit a f#ckboy with a crowbar

Then run away like I was [?]
I peeled off in a minivan
I’m feelin’ like I’m Jackie Chan
I do my stunts, I stack my bands

I split it up with friends and fam
I thank the Lord for all my fans
I pray I’m never broke again
I’ve been through hell and back again

I’ll never let the devil in my soul
A hundred bands for the Benz, runnin’ over picket fences
Potholes and bullet holes, put f#ckboys in trenches
I got goals I gotta reach before I’m 37

b#tch it’s Kevin, m#th*rf#ck*r
Give a f#ck about a reverend, only prayin’ to myself, yuh
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Pouya & Fat Nick Lyrics – Seven Figure Habits

Pouya & Fat Nick

Seven Figure Habits