Doors Up

OMG!

XELIX!

My Way

What I Say

MAXED OUT!

Cash out!

Flex

Minute

Stars (outro)

Dough

prod. [@Malvi  @ok]


Lyrics

I mix the Wock’ with the Faygo

Walk in the store, told ‘em give me the bill-y 
Too many hoes, man, this feel like The Bachelor 
I mix the Wock’ with the Cream, that’s a lavender 
He want a verse, told lil’ bro I ain’t taxin’ him 
Just send the racks and I might send it faster
I put the lean in my smoothie, it’s berry 
Too many racks, I might buy me a ‘Rari
New money blue like I’m hangin’ with Perry
Stay with the stick like a wizard, no Harry
Bro got a stick, he ain’t playin’ no FIFA 
I put a beam on the Glock like a beeper 
He tried to run, but we caught him, it’s deeper 
Took her to Neimans, she call me a keeper

I mix the Wock’ with the Faygo

Too many racks, I might sleep on a pile 
Too many hoes, I can’t chill for a while 
Too many sticks, like we deep in the South 
He talkin’ crazy, we airin’ it out 
I drop a bag, get him gone like a mission
Hop in that coupe, do the dash like it’s fiction 
Twin keep a drum like he playin’ musician 
I ran it up, I don’t need no permission 


Faygo!

!


Too many M’s, it’s amazin’ 
I might fly to Vegas

I keep a stick, not for decor 
I got these racks, need a detour 
I hit her once, now she need more
She blow phone up like C4 
Too many plays, need an agent
Drop me a bag, make it back like I’m Jason
We gettin’ money, this shit not a race
He wanna talk, but he talk to the K

Too many M’s, it’s amazin’ 
I might fly to Vegas



!

Vegas

Stars

Prolly (ft. beheadme)

BLACKOUT

Top floor

Wake up

Twanski era<///










Produced by ooscr

REAL

Dyin̈ (intro)

Tru$t

Bills

new new

lyrics 

Wock in the fridge, drank in my gut (don't use it)
We got beams, we got drums
We got hoes, we got funds
We got sticks, we got lungs
We got pills on our tongues
I don’t talk, I just spend
I don’t think, I just win
I don’t blink, I just grin
I don’t fold, I just bend
Pop me a bean
Look at my jeans
filled up with racks
filled up with slatts
She bad, she sin
no motion, no sim
My life, no script
Your life, look glitch
Yo gang, look switch
My gang, that pitch
We swing, don’t pitch
We swipe, no click
Wock in the fridge, drank in my gut (don't use it)

Wock

not my vibe

in the backroom
mask on face
rick my lace
chrome to waist
don’t leave no trace
she want taste
i can’t stay
i cant stay
i got blade
heart don’t race
patek face
I can’t see time
vetement on slime
shawty get line
he not gang
he not mine
i took ten
i’m still fine
i seen hell
i seen signs
walk on earth
not my kind
talk too much

not my vibe

off that fly shit
Y’s on my eye lids
Raf in my closet
Ion need stylist
walk in silence
she like violence
told her bite 
i move lightly
money too clean for me
don’t move grimy
but my Glock dirty
yeah, it might sing, it might chop

Not my vïbe?

Xelix

Popular tracks