SBTV Warm Up Session [S4.EP46]
[Single verse]
I won't stop grinding till my cash is right
Pen house suit got the flashing lights
I don't give a fuck if my album drops
I'm a platinum in the streets I've got a thousand shots
All I do is make money I don't chase women
Hopped out the coup ten chains swinging
Chill on my block build a paper plane
I'm in the streets to race, no sega game
Everyday is the same, they changed the name
But I'm still slanging up in taylor's lane
I'm the club with a strally on my waist line
Holds 12 but is guaranteed to spray nine
They wanna know when the mix-tapes coming out
While I'm hoping these bricks ain't running out
Filling out the clientèle, giving out free yays
Stepping on the powder, cocaine dj'ing
Moving keys but I keep loosing p's
And I hardly get high cah I'm immune to cheese
My p's going up and down like sand in an hour glass
Call me Mr Burns I'm the man with the power-plant
I'll be chilling with my young bucks
30K on my neck, swinging like some nun-chucks
Chilling on the strip bait, but I'm out here spending like at this rate
I got the Nina I don't lift weights
I paint pictures, I'm nice with the words
The only thing cheap about me is the price on them words
Close your eyes when I get in the zone
Got a quarter 'mil line this ain't a regular phone,
They be watching my p's, I'm stocked up with cheese
It stinks so I gotta spray my block with febreeze
If them hoes ever see how I knock off them keys
When I tell them give me brain they will drop to their knees
Go over seas, get my mind straight
Left my workers with a line and 2 keys, something light weight
Certified trap-star, I ain't gotta say it
And I don't ever see the food, I let my shotters weigh it
Hoes looking at the pinky when I change gears
I'm out here moving onions, these ain't tears
With the AK, ill hit you up from long range
Got my weight up, a couple friends have gone strange
Just spend 7G's to make a 1000 back
My neighbours see them birds flying out the trap
Get your facts straight before you diss my team
And I ain't got a girlfriend, I sold that bitch a dream
Lord forgive me, I done a lot of dirt
I break down keys so this rap shit ain't gotta work
I stay on my grind, my work rate great
Tell a bitch if she ain't fucking on the first date skate
Them hoes are pinging but I ain't replying
Cah my phone keeps ringing, I'm always supplying
If I go pen, I'm shooting grade on the wing
And its looking like I spilled lucozade on my ring
5 bricks gone in one day, I trap hard
The mix-tape got more bangers than a scrap yard
Whoever thought I'd me moving these bricks
Copped a Q then I blew like a Crip
Must be crazy if you think my jewels are fake
Every time my phone rings I'm loosing weight
Its like I gotta ride out on my jack jones
Cah man ah keep talk bait on the tapped phones
I don't care about views on the net
Hands on cah my workers ain't moving correct
Heavy jewels on my neck, so I cruise with a tech
And if I pull it out, I'll leave your goons on the deck
Ask about me, I've been in birds view
Still hungry like the day I bought my first Q
Times have changed if them paigans have switched sex
I sold a billion O's but I ain't rich yet
Chilling on my block, bare clowns about
They werent around when I was in the bookie, down and out
Happy when I went broke and I had to consign a 7
How you like me now? I pull up in a 9/11
I ain't made a wack song yet
Told my youngers to put me a chain, stacks on deck
Im A'Jd out, used to wear denim clothes
N***as thought ill never blow when I started selling draws
Wrapping out all night im soo knackered
Me and lil T, united like Old Trafford
With my delivery, if I was in this industry id clearly sell
But im caught up in this scary world, ain't no fairy tale