Chords with lyrics
Key: G+G Minor
♫ Intro:
G minorGm
Yo
♫ Verse:
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I love my life, but I hate it at the same time
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I lost my close friend, and I'm hurtin' 'cause it's not fair
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If I was still shottin' where you shot, you couldn't shot there
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Said she can't stand me, someone tell her cop chairs
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And how much Dior runners I got that I do not wear
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Colombia's down for the thirty, and he's not scared
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His wrist works, been through more whips than Top Gear
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A augmentedA real one's hard to find, a bad bitch is not rare
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You ain't hit your opp block, but you been hittin' your girl
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My P U B's a quarter mill in the mail
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I'll make it further than you, why? 'Cah I'm willin' to fail
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Even if that means sittin' in jail
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Oh well, I bought a car for my little sis', a Dinger for the gang
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We cut ties with niggas that sing, but it's different where you hang
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Went from Corsas to Corse, but it's different in the Lamb'
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I try chest shot, he blocked it, so I chinged him in his hand
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No, I don't see eye to eye with them silly little tramps
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I'll probably still put my blacks on with a milli' in the bank
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With a milli' on my wrist, and a million in cash
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I'll sleep better when I hear Chak turned into some ash
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My manager says I'm stupid for still rollin' with a scram
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I hate explainin' myself and I don't think he'll understand
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**** got got the same day that he was trollin' on the 'Gram
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Your violations get slept on, cah you're no one in your camp
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I'm top two, and it's been that, lil' bro can't fight to save his life
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But with his knife, they might give you a shit bag
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Might give you a bad day or give your mum bad news
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My hoodie cost a bag three, my runners cost a bag two
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Pussy you just chat static
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Fuckin' on his BM, got her breathin' like she asthmatic
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Leave him with a face scar, so you can see my shank damage
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He ain't worth turnin' cabbage
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I can make the yola vanish, bring it back, crack magic
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Four pipe, my whip fartin', can't bring Dimma Hatton Garden
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Last time we did, he try pop a chain disregardin'
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Niggas tryna sign out early, but I'm in regardless
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'Cause if I slip one time, that could be the darkest moment
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Paid fifty for my watch, I'll pay more for his head back
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All my hoes holdin' grudges, 'cause I ain't givin' head back
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The same day you buy it, same day you gotta test that
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I ain't lookin' after yours, cah I ain't tryna be a stepdad
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Been a shiesty yout way before I ever had sex, akh
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If I give you back half, then I beg you just respect that
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Beg you don't call my phone like Ciian, can't get the rest back
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Before major comebacks, there's always minor setbacks
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If you don't grind, I'll assume nothin's what you wanna be
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Hoes see me on the menu, and say "Course, that's what I wanna eat
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'Course that's what I wanna beat," for me, she's a proper freak
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Give me jaw and ride my dick properly
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Apart from waps, I'm tryna invest into some property
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And stay away from guys that think life's a game, Monopoly
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One hundred racks in jewels, you're basically the lottery
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To bring my niggas on tour, they don't know what it's costin' me
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Tell my AR, "Bring the woosh"
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Them Rick Owen boots, the quickest way for her to shush
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I already got the puss', a little pull, a little push
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He started runnin' off, he only saw my bally and my hood
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I got so much of it, my cousins think I've got a pattern with Celine
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And that I'm lyin', when I say that I do no get it for free
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You would think my watch is in jail, my AP's on the freeze
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You would think her legs don't work, she's always on her knees
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You would think I had no friends, I was always with the fiends
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Ten, fifty, then a hundred racks, was always in my dreams
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Minimum a flick knife, that was always in my jeans
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My niggas not no pedophile, but he's always around a teen, seven
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Out here with nothin', then you probably wanna see Heaven
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Carry on, gwaan, like you don't need weapon
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If Jo ever got caught, for the time, he done three cheffings
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By the time he came home, it would've been P
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HMP's the only time I'm watchin' Keith Lem
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Won't see me on WhatRappersWore in all black with cheap leathers
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Really I should be in Paris, skinny fit, clean steppers
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Number plates already hot, and plus we've got like three peppers
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I don't wanna be in jail, phone sex, read letters
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Loopz always got his gun on him, he don't need wetters
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But what I need is a girl that loves me for me
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Not for my VVs, or the fact that I've got silly Ps
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Hit her like twice, but she is not my lover, Billie Jean
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Tryna tell my youngin' that I love to stop sippin' lean
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Negative to positive, that's how I made my mummy proud
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Then back to negative, when they try to come outside my mummy's house
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I put mummy on a flight, used to take out mummy's knife
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I'm a G.O.A.T. in the , I put that on my mummy's life
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I could never be a bum, I would've wasted mummy's time
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When she carried me for nine months, she deserves a lick back
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Rollie on my nigga's wrist, didn't pay for it, he licked that
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Didn't pray for it, just told a pussy boy to unclip that
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Nina try introduce me to some hoes in his mansion
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But little did he know, CLA already hit that
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Got more motion than your whole gang
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Murder on my mind, I probably get that from my old man
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'Course you can hold dick, but I ain't tryna hold hands
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The way I fill her up, you would think she had a low tank
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And no, I won't rap about no murders that I weren't involved in
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They do it all the time, to me that's some joke ting
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Me and Crash me the hood hot, cah we done a pokin'
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Left his top red and white, like the flag of Poland
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If YB was still alive, he'd need F1 plus a whole rex
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I know he's up in Heaven, probably tryna make the coke stretch
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Free my jail niggas, doin' pull ups, gettin' no sex
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And free my opps, the with no canteen and no creps
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A augmentedA few used to diss me when I was bruck
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But I'ma drop eighty on a chain to show I've leveled up
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I see bro push it so deep, he got his metal stuck
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The things I've got are never luck, me and her did never fuck
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Yo, my next purchase gotta be a sheen with a whistle
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I bet you these bullets don't tickle
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If I weren't trappin, I was robbin' like Thickle
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My point threes, like they could've been Skittles
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I'm pullin' strings, could've done my ting with a guitar
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Cheffed a boy in his back, and turned my block to Qatar
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I'm in a Dawn with my day one, wishin' on a star
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And a scorps, big racks, I used to re up on a half
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Confused why I never see you when it's time to ride
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But always when it's time to hide
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Never tell the truth, but always hear you when it's time to lie
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Life's changed, I phone up my niggas like "It's time to fly"
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I tell my label I'm a dripper, I don't need a stylist
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Would've made her bae, but she's been runnin' up her mileage
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Same way I run it up in Knightsbridge
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Can't forget when I was runnin' on the night shift
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Demons on my block, might leave their flicky where your eyes is
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And run if you see them demons on a motorcycle with a hi vis
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CLA