Lyrics Below:

Gucci and Louis all over my brand new coats
Burberry, make a bad bitch breathe heavy
On a whole, nother leve-y , I'm, high off of this medicine
Meditating on niggas
That choppa on me with a trigger that make a nigga hop with kids with tigger
My niggas get money for real I ain't talkin bout Tommy but I got the figures
That Tommy inside the Hilfiger's I pull it out spit like I'm passin no scrimption
These niggas ain't shit but some bitches I'm disappearin on it just like a wizard
Bitch I'm the flame, nigga
Waka Flaka "O Let's Do it", I'm the flame nigga
Aye, Kool-Aid Jammer
I'm totin that hammer, free all my niggas locked up in thе slammer, Just like a fruit bitch I'm goin bananas
Louis Vuitton on the bеlt, Louis Vuitton on the shirt too
Run up on me get murked too, R. Kelly with that bitch I might just go flirt ooh
I switch like Nintendo, pull up on him rhymes off of the mental Explode like pop when you drop one mento
Aye, bitch I'm dope no antidote
Pull up on a scene with a choppa with a 44, pull up with a four O, Hangin out the 4-door, dragon like komodo, pose like a photo
Aye, you already know tho
Audemar wrist with the AP, this so cold run it back go replay me
Pull up on a scene 444 Jay-Z, hit a nigga with a combo like play me, fuck you
Pull up on a scene like, Ima buck you
Knuck if you buck run up on me I buck too
Choppa on me and it cost like a buck or two
Huh, I'm bussin you
Where I see myself in two years
Shittin on all my peers, the ones that wish that they were right here
A lot of shit changed since last year
I'm not the same nigga as last year
Last year was a broke year, but the next year will be the most hell
Got options, like what am I coppin
Where do I wanna go shoppin
Like you said, I got options
Got money inside of my pocket
My money yeah that is an option
The streets, that's not an option
I made a whole nother option
Freddy Krueger when I tote the ruler it's a scary sight, run up on me nigga you can die tonight
I ain't never had to have stage fright, hop up on the stage then I take lives
Grab the mic, fresh to death Gucci in the afterlife
I'm in a Ghost like a poltergeist, triple 9 still fuck the pastor's wife
Whoah whoah whoah whoah
Thank God for the blessings
Whoah whoah whoah whoah
In the cut totin on a Smith & Wesson
I heard you're hungry, so my Glock got the munchies it'll give yo ass seconds
Do you wanna get shot or stabbed nigga it's yo choice, it's a preference
Activist I jus been sippin, these niggas got foot out or somethin they trippin
You run up on me then I'm ballin like Scotty, that didn't rhyme so guess I'm ballin like Pippen, aye huh
Bitch I'm limpin, like I'm pimpin, bathing ape on me I'm chimpin, huh
Niggas basic, bitches basic, why you so fuckin simp

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THIS TRACK

Lil Feenx

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