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Skilla Baby - The Coldest Album Lyrics



Skilla Baby - The Coldest Lyrics






Trapped

Ha
All the money in the world can't replace my niggas, for real
Ha

Man, I'm like two million up (up) and that shit still ain't enough
When I go to sleep, I think about them shootin' up my truck (fah)
But I'm still out here doin' me, I just don't give a f*ck (ha)
My lil' cousins love me, I can't let them see me givin' up (uh-uh)
Always got good grades in school, still played the fool (played the fool)
When them niggas made they move, you know me, I played it cool
Niggas playin' both sides, I don't never make 'em choose (uh-uh)
All these trophies on my neck, they can never say I lose, ha

Dope fiends (fiends), coke, lean
Lil' niggas from the hood gettin' smoked at fifteen (fah)
All they know is tote straps, they ain't gettin' no cheese (baow)
I'm rich as f*ck, niggas wanna lift me up, I still won't leave
I'm strapped, I won't leave the hood, I think I'm trapped (trapped)
Them boys shot at us, we went got back, huh (back)
Every time we spinned, somebody got tapped (tapped)
My lil' nigga thirteen and got hats (hats)

Nah, for real (nah, for real)
This how this shit go
It get real treacherous

Ha
Every time I leave the house, somebody tryna kill me (ha)
Old niggas from the hood tryna Dr. Phil me (yeah)
I'm on my tenth hood home, I'm 'bout to cop a building (ha)
If you ain't never been through shit, you not gon' feel me (I don't feel you)
I done sold drop, been shot and shot at (at)
I've been locked up, got got and got back (back)
I done stood in the kitchen, watched my brother lock crack (ha)
I done stayed in the trap, watched the fiends cop tax (ha)

Dope fiends (fiends), coke, lean
Lil' niggas from the hood gettin' smoked at fifteen (fah)
All they know is tote straps, they ain't gettin' no cheese (nah)
I'm rich as f*ck, niggas wanna lift me up, I still won't leave
I'm strapped (strapped), I won't leave the hood, I think I'm trapped (trapped)
Them boys shot at us, we went got back, huh (back)
Every time we spinned, somebody got tapped (fah)
My lil' nigga thirteen and got hats (ha)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Ben Diehl, Ian Lewis, Ronald Tyson, Trevon Gardner, Walter Sigler
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc.




Free Big Meech

[ Featuring Moneybagg Yo ]

Ha
Ha
Nah, for real (nah, for real)
(My nigga Lee, I think we got another one)
Ha
(MIA JAY C)
Fah-fah, grrah-da-da, huh

Wrist bust crazy, man, I be shinin' like a light (like a light)
Fa-fa, grrah-da-da, I'm too f*ckin' rich to fight (ha)
Catch my opps at the light in all black like Dark Knight (huh)
Bitches used to hold me, I ain't have no money, shit was tight (it's alright)
When they flip me, I ain't really trippin' 'cause I know my rights (ha)
I be flyer than a kite, Givenchy, Mike Amiri ice
Word on the street, these niggas on my ass, yeah, aight (yeah, aight)
I ain't never ducked smoke, I been thuggin' my whole life (ha)
I be goin' through it but I keep it movin', I'm aight
Hutch and Gary got me right, man, I'm lit up like a light
Rule number one, don't buy it once if you can't buy it twice (phew)
When these niggas see me, they gon' fight or flight 'cause it's on sight (baow)
I be wrappin' bows, put 'em in a box and on a flight
Wrappin' bows got me ballin' like I'm Mike, I gamble my life
Every day I wake up is like I'm rollin' dice
I jump on the flight, get the money, then jump on a flight
Ice bows, top five (ice bows, top five), them killers on my side
Another one of them niggas done died, oh my God
Pistol whip a nigga with my blick and leave him cockeyed (ha)
Put a ten on him, it ain't shit to get an opp fried (ha)

The bag in I'm in, I know niggas cannot f*ck with me (the bag in I'm in)
The bag I'm in, I make these niggas uncomfortable (the bag in I'm in)
The bag I'm in, I might put a nigga in a trunk (the bag in I'm in)
The bag I'm in, I make fifty thousand every month (the bag in I'm in)
The bag I'm in, win after win (the bag in I'm in)
Can't be everywhere at once, I wish I had a twin (the bag in I'm in)
The bag I'm in, ten after ten (the bag in I'm in)
'Cause we keep them chickens in like Big Meech and Tee Flen' (ha, the bag in I'm in)
This bag I'm in, this one really personal (this bag in I'm in)
This bag I'm in, man, with this bitch I'm surgical (this bag in I'm in)
This bag I'm in, I don't need no friends (this bag in I'm in)
Thank God for my ends, more bands, more bands (ha)

Lately, I been ridin' 'round with all goblins
Them boys tryna catch my opps outside and rob 'em
When they see me, better hope I ain't got fye 'cause I'ma pop 'em (baow)
Go up top like Obi Toppin, Mike Wazowski, I'm a monster (ha)
I grew up like Junior Healy, I'm a problem (I'm a problem)
All head shots, I'm tryna hit him in his noggin' (frrt, baow)
Even when he's snorin', I be tryna slide like a toboggan (ha)
Rich as f*ck, still eatin' Top Ramen (ha)

The bag in I'm in, I know niggas cannot f*ck with me (the bag in I'm in)
The bag I'm in, I make these niggas uncomfortable (the bag in I'm in)
The bag I'm in, I might put a nigga in a trunk (the bag in I'm in)
The bag I'm in, I make fifty thousand every month (the bag in I'm in)
The bag I'm in, win after win (the bag in I'm in)
Can't be everywhere at once, I wish I had a twin (the bag in I'm in)
The bag I'm in, ten after ten (the bag in I'm in)
'Cause we keep them chickens in like Big Meech and Tee Flen' (ha, the bag in I'm in)
This bag I'm in, this one really personal (this bag in I'm in)
This bag I'm in, man, with this bitch I'm surgical (this bag in I'm in)
This bag I'm in, I don't need no friends (this bag in I'm in)
Thank God for my ends, more bands, more bands (the bag I'm in, ha)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Brandon Lee Cherry, Joshua White, Trevon Gardner
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC




Richie

[ Featuring Moneybagg Yo ]

(You cut up on this one, JAY C)
(MIA JAY C)
Ha, tss

Two hundred thousand on a Richard Mille, nigga, add me up
All my bitches got some good pussy, but be bad as f*ck
Think my pet peeve is when a fake nigga dap me up
And I keep some killers with me, nigga, what I'm lackin' for?
Really self made, self paid with no help, lame
Quick to spank a pussy-ass nigga, like I'm Belt Gang
I be goin' through it, act like I ain't never felt pain
Got my own money, nigga, I can buy myself chains
I'm a dog, nigga, slide on you like a fraud, nigga
Really hard, niggas can't hold me, I ain't y'all niggas
Every time niggas die, suspect, y'all all victims
Never seen no hoes in my opps pictures, all nigga

Ha, two hundred thousand for the Richie
Nigga stop sendin' threats, come and get me
I ran up two hundred thousand in my Dickies
I take all my young bitches to Tiffany, ha
Two hundred thousand on me daily (right now)
These bitches wanna be around me 'cause I'm famous (ugh, ugh)
Spent two hundred thousand on my niggas cases ('cause I'm paid up)
Two hundred thousand on his head, they gon' bake him, ha (go get it, go)

The coupe go two-somethin' (two-sixty), this bitch too runny (bitch too fast)
Niggas always talkin' 'bout front 'em but can't move nothin' (broke-ass)
Goyard duffle for myself, I bought her Louis luggage (luggage)
Long as she answer when I'm in town, I don't care who she f*ckin' (ugh)
Hydraulics on a May' truck, young nigga paid up (go)
Keep on puttin' it in they face, bruh, like Cartier Buffs
AP Skelly, Richard Mille, know what I'm sayin'? Made up
Two hundred thou' off of weed promo, that's free money addin' up (so why not get it?)
This that good smoke, A.K.A., that real 'Za (gas)
And I got all different kind in this pill bottle (facts)
Put up some pints, they turnin' brown, but it's still raw (Wockesha)
Don't sacrifice, you out your life soon as you throw a cross
Call a nigga bluff, break ten milli' out (right now)
They sneak dissin', show 'em what that Glock ten milli 'bout (lil' pussy)
Somebody lied when they said you can't get rich in a drought (ha)
I'm havin' motion, so your ho gon' put my dick in her mouth (ugh, ugh)

Ha, two hundred thousand for the Richie
Nigga stop sendin' threats, come and get me
I ran up two hundred thousand in my Dickies
I take all my young bitches to Tiffany, ha
Two hundred thousand on me daily
These bitches wanna be around me 'cause I'm famous
Spent two hundred thousand on my niggas cases
Two hundred thousand on his head, they gon' bake him, ha

My young niggas get actin' for that munyun
Let 'em see them one niggas out, they do-done-done
Nigga hatin' on me out of nowhere, where you come from? (Ha)
I don't give a f*ck about no beef, I'm a thug, duh
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: DeMario White, Joshua White, Trevon Gardner
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC




Mike Jack

[ Featuring G Herbo, Rob49 ]

(MIA JAY C)
Yeah, phew
Mm-hmm, mm
Keep all that
Ha

In L.A. with my nigga Herb, my twin from the 'Raq
I ain't gon' lie, my nigga starvin', he'll sin for his stacks
Spent ninety days in the trap, just to leave and catch a hat
Quick to get a nigga robbed with four .9s, welcome to Vulture Island
In my hood, they call me Simon, killers do what I say
Every diamond came from Gary, they think this from Eliantte
My wrist on "Get out my way," my Cuban link on Pavé
I keep a yeah, I'm not Tay, come get your bitch out my face

Thank God I went legit from street shit and chose rap
Grab a million from the 'Raq, hop on a plane and fly back
Hundred shots go off for free, he died, but he fired back
Thought lil' foe'nem was from the D, they scratched off in five Scats
I'm in a BP Cadillac, we got Double-Rs back to back
Switch start glitchin' like it got Tourette's
Switched three bitches, I was off X
I'm gettin' rich, I ain't breakin' a sweat, I just got an ASCAP check
And I bought me a Rolex, that bitch rose like Moët (yeah)

Stop the cap, you ain't catch no hat, we doin' the dash in Scats, nigga
F*ck your hood, I ain't coppin' pleas, bitch, if it's that, it's that, nigga
I'm with G Herbo in the 'Raq, but I can't lack, it ain't in me
I ain't laugh with none of these hoes, bitch, take 'em off, I'm dead serious, woo
Huh, I done did more hoes than Michael Jackson did his shows, nigga
I done sold more 'bows than Ralph Lauren done sold clothes, nigga
T hittin', this ain't come from Johnny, we ain't like niggas
I buy bitches bodies, I'm her bitch-ass boyfriend nightmare

I don't just be sayin' shit, my boy, I'm really rich, for real
When I'm in the field, I keep that whistle on me, Emmitt Till
PTSD from them gunshots, them bitches give me chills
Trap bangin', know I'm for real, cookie sales, Mrs. Fields
Lord knows I can't afford another F, but niggas playin', God
The whole city know what me and cuz do on the yeah side
All we know is Scats, Tracks, Hellcats, Redeyes
My lil' bitch keep blick, she quick to face some shit, Barreleye (yeah, ha)

On the yeah side, niggas know we be on yeah time, alright
That's my uncle in that kitchen makin' his hand lock, alright
Wear yo' mask when you in that kitchen, make you pass out, alright
Bitch, I love when you come through, have that ass up
Lord, we the reason they buy hearses, we buyin' bitches purses, huh
I know niggas who want it all, but ain't tryna put that work in, huh
Pull up in the turtle, bulletproof'll make niggas nervous, huh
Bring your friend when you slide through, make this shit a circus, huh
F*ck me right now, girl, come f*ck me right now

Ho already know I'm lit, she suckin' dick straight off the flight out, uh
It's her and her friend right now, I wanna see, don't turn the light out
Can't get no sleep and this money keep callin' me, I'm puttin' 'em right out
Lil' bro got locked, sent the kite out, scope on the AR, took the sight out
We got twenty Glocks when we pop out, niggas get killed, what we fightin' 'bout?
With some boss niggas that's locked in who wanna see me win
F*ck-nigga walked into that Glock 10, made CNN
I know trapstars sell green and hard, no CPNs
I got five percent on eight cars, can't see me in
And my big cuz, he renegade, he GDK, but he GDN
He EBK, might kill his mans, gotta watch his kin
He don't want no bust down watch, he want the newest Gen
Slide off the strip and let off shots, I'm still gon' hit his hand
Like he discovered Young Buck and f*cked up many men
You thought Doe Boy was one of us? We jump out minivans (uh)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Herbert Wright, Joshua White, Robert Thomas, Trevon Gardner
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC




Bulletproof

(MIA JAY C) ha
Nah, for real
(I hear you, JAY C) ha

I get niggas hit, if you rich, send a blitz
Nigga, quit talkin' shit, bitch, get in the mix
I can show a nigga how to get rich with a split
Turn a nick' to a brick, lil' bitch, I'm the shit
Been lit since a jit, keep blicks in the whip
Think he beefin' with his granny, he got hit with a switch
Lawyer on speed dial, take a hit, then repent
We take shit to trial 'cause we get shit dismissed
I'm the man in my city, I don't think these niggas hear me
Not guilty, I just seen my young nigga on the jury
Niggas fear me, kill him with my eyes closed, Blind Fury
F*ck the beef, if you tryna get some money, come get near me
I'm a young money gettin' nigga from the West Side
Put a switch on my Glock, it shoot like a TEC-9
I got ice water on my chest, ooh, I'm blessed, God
You don't wanna stand next to me with no SI's
I get two hundred on a test trial 'cause I'm tied in
I get brrp from the bird man, he gon' fly 'em in
Tried to kill his ass, he told on me, let me try again
Told the hook I don't know what happened, I'll lie again
Get niggas smacked, I got blicks big as Shaq
I'm still in the trenches tryna get rid of sack
Pull up to the BP in BP with a strap
Micro with the kickback, I call this bitch, "Midget Mac"
I'm with a bad bitch, pussy good and she got ass
My lil' bitch red, good head and she got class
Lil' nigga shot my truck up, he got caught fast
My last backend was twenty-five thousand all cash
I'm a money gettin' nigga, I rock Chrome Heart denim
I'm like, "F*ck the new Benz," I'm a Mopar spinner
I'm a bad bitch hitter, I'm a real go getter
Better focus on yourself if you ever see me with her
I'll fly the Papi Steak chef to me, I want some dinner
I'm a hypocrite, send a blitz, kill him, then re-pin her
I'ma keep hustlin' every day 'cause I wanna be bigger
I'm a hot head, hope you drop dead, I got a temper
I'm the wrong nigga with a pistol, this bitch shoot a missile
This bitch rip though tissue, when it hit you, I'll come and get you
Got my chopper chewin' like a dog, diss bitch, we done bit you
Hope my chopper hit you, come back through again if I miss you
Even my young niggas be playin' with that Shih Tzu
I keep my pistol, my favorite utensil
I sell food, cut that boy with that Ginsu
I stay off the 'Gram, shit be playin' with my mental

She want a young nigga that get money
She want a young nigga that be thuggin'
She want a young nigga that get money
Nigga, we'll shoot the chopper in public
She want a young nigga that get money
The AP came plain, but I bust it
She just want a young nigga that get money
I just want a real bitch I can thug with
Ha, she just want a young nigga that get money
Hmm, a young turnt nigga nobody can't f*ck with
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Joshua White, Trevon Gardner
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC




Slimm Shady

[ Featuring Mozzy ]

(Whit locked and loaded)
Hmm
(Haha, Zai, can you turn it up a little bit?)
Ha

We gon' see how this shit go when we toe-to-toe
Every time we see them niggas, you know we gon' up the score
When I go, I'ma take lil' bro 'cause I know he blow
All them niggas chillin' in the house, we kickin' in the door
Nigga thought I shot my fully out, but I got one more
Still don't know which lil' nigga shot me, but he know he owe
They say they ain't scared of me, they scared of Bo and Mike Mo
You know I keep my .45, I swear this bitch is not for show

Four Nicki on me, I ain't picky with it, I hit you with it
Just gotta come out a couple dollars, they gon' blitz you niggas
Gun hot but my gloves on, I'm in the mitten with it
They say he a pussy, so don't kill him, f*ck it, pistol whip him
They say that they on me, I ain't trippin' 'cause I been on them
Every time I get mad or bored, we go spin on them
Every time you see that nigga Skilla, you see him and trim
Forgis on the five, baby trippin', tryna bend my rim
Hit man like, "Point them nigga out," I'm like, "Them and them"
Surgical with my shit, I change his face like Lil Kim
Every week I drop another song, that's another M
I don't see certain rappers in my city, they like Eminem
If I had to choose between them and them and them, Eminem
I had to cop the plain presi', it's a gem
Lil' bro gettin' shots up, man, that boy been in the gym
Lil' kids keep tellin' me I look like Skilla, yeah, I'm him (ha)

We gon' see how this shit go when we toe-to-toe
Every time we see them niggas, you know we gon' up the score
When I go, I'ma take lil' bro 'cause I know he blow
All them niggas chillin' in the house, we kickin' in the door
Nigga thought I shot my fully out, but I got one more
Still don't know which lil' nigga shot me, but he know he owe
They say they ain't scared of me, they scared of Bo and Mike Mo
You know I keep my .45, I swear this bitch is not for show

Yeah, woof tickets, that's what's bein' sold, these niggas hoes
Cold feet 'posed to be a stepper but he froze
Line of scrimmage, that's what we gon' push if it's a go
Jump out on 'em, power bomb that pussy with this pole (yeah)
Membership, yellow tape to suckers all I know (all I know)
Dysfunctional, slightly dozin' off, we all on dope (all on dope)
Send a kite, pull on level four, I get you poked
Crack a pint, he don't get no Styro' 'cause he broke (broke nigga)
Blemishes, resume demolished, shouldn't of spoke (shh)
Glass house, should I do the blades or do the spokes?
Cuban links, but I still got Frankies and the rope
I'm from Blood gang, somehow I get love from all the Locs (yeah)
G-O-D, Yeeki on my person, that's for sure
Mandatory, never ran from nothin' but parole (f*ck 'em)
Skilla with me, Motor City niggas do the most
I got that -ism in me, break her for a trap, I'm from the ghost

We gon' see how this shit go when we toe-to-toe
Every time we see them niggas, you know we gon' up the score
When I go, I'ma take lil' bro 'cause I know he blow
All them niggas chillin' in the house, we kickin' in the door
Nigga thought I shot my fully out, but I got one more
Still don't know which lil' nigga shot me, but he know he owe
They say they ain't scared of me, they scared of Bo and Mike Mo
You know I keep my .45, I swear this bitch is not for show
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Christian Hamilton, Timothy Patterson, Trevon Gardner, Wilson Taylor Whitlock
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC




Whole Package

[ Featuring Flo Milli ]

(Hair long, money long)
You the whole package (he know I'm bad, for real)
(Body fire, face is pretty)
Ha, you the whole package (he know I'm bad)
(The whole package, can't f*ck with you)
Ha, you the whole package (he know I'm bad)
Ha, you the whole package (he know I'm bad)

Ooh, your body natural (yeah), these other bitches plastic (for real)
I could tell you get that money by the way you actin'
Other bitches average (ha), boo, you fantastic (ha)
Don't know what you lackin', you the whole package (you the whole package)

(Hair long, money long)
You the whole package (he know I'm bad)
(Body fire, face is pretty)
Ha, you the whole package (he know I'm bad)
(The whole package, can't f*ck with you)
Ha, you the whole package (he know I'm bad, you the whole package)
Ha, you the whole package (Flo Milli shit, he know I'm bad)

Pretty bitch, he say he like the way I act (ayy)
Hood nigga gon' eat it, break it off and lick my kitty cat (duh)
Come and ice me out, boy, you know how to make these bitches mad (haha)
Say he love my hips, I put hands to rub all on my ass, he know I'm bad
Ooh, my body natural (damn), I'm the whole package (yeah)
I ain't f*ckin' with these niggas, leave 'em in the past tense
You made for me, your money long, you the whole package (money)
He treat me right and do you wrong, don't know what you lackin' (yeah, ha, for real)

Ooh, your body natural (yeah), these other bitches plastic (for real)
I could tell you get that money by the way you actin'
Other bitches average (ha), boo, you fantastic (you the whole package)
Don't know what you lackin', you the whole package (you the whole package)

(Hair long, money long)
You the whole package (he know I'm bad, for real)
(Body fire, face is pretty)
Ha, you the whole package (he know I'm bad)
(The whole package, can't f*ck with you)
Ha, you the whole package (he know I'm bad)
Ha, you the whole package (he know I'm bad)

I love it when you touchin' on my butt, it got me cheesin'
Love to spoil a bitch, so he gon' buy the newest season (ha)
You pretty and your body fire, bae, you got me tweakin'
I'm really havin', so I bought Chanely for no reason
I hate when you tease 'cause know how to keep my fiendin'
Fine as hell, I'm killin' hoes, like how the f*ck she breathin'?
You ain't friendly with these niggas, you ain't even speakin'
You know you the coldest, Flo Milli, you anemic

You the whole package (he know I'm bad)
You the whole package (he know I'm bad)
You the whole package (he know I'm bad)
Ha, you the whole package (Flo Milli shit, he know I'm bad) (yeah, for real)

Ooh, your body natural, these other bitches plastic
I could tell you get that money by the way you actin' (ha)
Other bitches average, boo, you fantastic (you the whole package)
Don't know what you lackin', you the whole package (you the whole package)

(Hair long, money long)
You the whole package (he know I'm bad)
(Body fire, face is pretty)
Ha, you the whole package (he know I'm bad, ha)
(The whole package, can't f*ck with you)
Ha, you the whole package (he know I'm bad)
Ha, you the whole package (he know I'm bad)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Alec Michael Tolkin, Alexander Bak, Ariana Wong, Colin Franken, Tamia Carter, Trevon Gardner
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC




Crash

[ Featuring Jeremih ]

She love it over here, she know we eat the most

Ooh-ooh, ooh
Come ride in my bed, come drive, we gon' crash tonight (ooh-ooh)
Come ride in my bed, come drive, we gon' crash tonight
Come ride in my bed, come drive, we gon' crash tonight (ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh, ha, yeah-yeah, yeah)

I'm lyin' in my bed (bed)
There's so many nasty thoughts be goin' through my head (my head, ha)
This bitch in your stomach but you feel it in your legs (your legs)
We ain't got no title, you want me to be your man (your man)
Beat that pussy up, I got you tellin' all your friends (your friends)
Five rooms in my house, bae, we can f*ck in every bed (every bed)
I just wanna be lowkey with you, girl (ha)
I ain't seen your phone, how I get in your close friends? (Close friends)
I'm on my way to you, I'ma call you when I land (I land)
When we get done f*ckin', you be playin' in my dreams (my dreams)
You was ridin' me, then you jumped off and gave me head (gave me head)

Ooh-ooh, ooh
Come ride in my bed, come drive, we gon' crash tonight (ooh-ooh)
Come ride in my bed, come drive, we gon' crash tonight
Come ride in my bed, come drive, we gon' crash tonight (ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh, ha, yeah-yeah, yeah)

Ha, she want me to hit it with my jewelry on (with my jewelry on)
She love it off her ear, she say we eat the most (ha)
She wanna give me top, yeah, she in my bed (my bed)
I got that pussy bussin' at me like a live, yeah (like a live, yeah)
She just got on top, yeah (yeah), she in my head (in my head)
I might slime in that pussy, do what I say (you d what I say)
I ain't 'bout to play with you (I ain't 'bout to play with your pretty ass)
I ain't come to just lay with you (you know what I'm here for)
You say that you love me when you f*ck me (you really love me)
I'ma bleed your body, girl, do you trust me? (Do you trust me?)
Ha

Ooh-ooh, ooh
Come ride in my bed, come drive, we gon' crash tonight (ooh-ooh)
Come ride in my bed, come drive, we gon' crash tonight
Come ride in my bed, come drive, we gon' crash tonight (ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh, yeah, yeah)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Daniel Garcia, Derrick D. Williams, Francis Ubiera, Jeremy Felton, Kevin James Volpe, Kitwan Adisa McCoy, Lenard Rodriguez, Luke Crowder, Oscar Sanchez, Trevon Gardner
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC




Project X (G6)

[ Featuring DaBaby, Southside ]

Ha
Ha
Ha
Hmm (ha)

Ain't got no monyun, huh, boy, you done-yun (boy, you done-yun)
I make a run, collect them tokens, boy, this Fun Run (woo)
They like, "It's that fun?" (ha), I'm like, "Uh, duh" (duh)
Why my tongue numb? Ha G6, uh-huh (ha)

G6, uh-huh (uh-huh), G6, uh-huh (uh-huh)
MBox, uh-uh (uh-uh), G6, uh-huh (uh-huh)
G6, uh-huh (uh-huh), G6, uh-huh (uh-huh)
MBox, uh-uh (uh-uh), G6, uh-huh (uh-huh)

Brodie on molly, on molly (woo)
He tryna body a body (baow)
He havin' fun gettin' that monyun, doin' molly a hobby
We don't do rocks or Roxy (mm-mm)
Bro off that Oxy', Oxy' (Oxy')
Lil' bitch so ditsy daisy, she off that Whitney, Bobby

Hmm, turnt, we turnt (turnt)
Turnt, we turnt (turnt)
Turnt, we turnt (turnt)
Turnt, we turnt up (ha)
Turnt, we turnt (turnt)
Turnt, we turnt (turnt)
Turnt, we turnt (turnt)
Turnt, we turnt up (ha)

G6, uh-huh (uh-huh), G6, uh-huh (uh-huh)
MBox, uh-uh (uh-uh), G6, uh-huh (uh-huh)
G6, uh-huh (uh-huh), G6, uh-huh (uh-huh)
MBox, uh-uh (uh-uh), G6, uh-huh (uh-huh)

Hmm, turnt, we turnt (turnt)
Turnt, we turnt (turnt)
Turnt, we turnt (turnt)
Turnt, we turnt up (ha)
Turnt, we turnt (turnt)
Turnt, we turnt (turnt)
Turnt, we turnt (turnt)
Turnt, we turnt up (uh, uh, uh, bitch, Baby, ha)

Act like you heard me, what you want? I'm off the Adderall 30
I'll hurt a bitch 'fore a bitch ever hurt me
Drive past the cop car and flip 'em a birdie (yeah, yeah, yeah)
Just under fifteen bricks for the verses
The bitch came in with the lick in they purses
They passin' the molly around, they want turtle (woo)
They screamin' out, "Uh-huh," these hoes lit (yeah)
Uh-huh, eat that dick (uh-huh)
Uh-huh, use some spit
She asked me if this mean we goin' together, mm
Uh-huh, you my bitch
Yeah, she on a Tesla, but the car she pulled up in ain't electric (yoom)
F*ckin' me good, tryna send me a message
I'm tryna nut, but the pill, it won't let me

Hmm, turnt (woo), we turnt (woo, turnt)
Turnt, we turnt (turnt)
Turnt, we turnt (turnt)
Turnt, we turnt up (ha)
Turnt, we turnt (turnt)
Turnt, we turnt (turnt)
Turnt, we turnt (turnt)
Turnt, we turnt up (ha)

I brought the strap in the party (baow)
Bro got the pack in the party
The hoes from next door singin' my song, I'm actin' like PARTY (ha)
My lil' bitch a Barbie
Forgis offset like Carti (woo)
Dress like an A-list artist (uh-huh)
I'm really chill, this Marni (Marni)
Bro sipped that purple, Barnie (Barnie)
Money bag on me like Ari (Ari)
The hoes love me, I'm sorry
I'm the male Lori Harvey (ha)

Hmm, turnt, we turnt (turnt)
Turnt, we turnt (turnt)
Turnt, we turnt (turnt)
Turnt, we turnt up (ha)
Turnt, we turnt (turnt)
Turnt, we turnt (turnt)
Turnt, we turnt (turnt)
Turnt, we turnt up (ha)

G6, uh-huh (uh-huh), G6, uh-huh (uh-huh)
MBox, uh-uh (uh-uh), G6, uh-huh (uh-huh)
G6, uh-huh (uh-huh), G6, uh-huh (uh-huh)
MBox, uh-uh (uh-uh), G6, uh-huh (uh-huh)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Aaron Tanarasoo, Jonathan Lyndale Kirk, Joshua Luellen, Lesideney Ragland, Nathan Morgan, Trevon Gardner
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC




Wifey

[ Featuring NoCap ]

(RJ always trippin', man, RJ always trippin', man)
Ha

Lil' baby, you ain't fine (fine), lil' baby, you the finest (finest)
You ain't just got a body (body), your face card on wifey (wifey)
You got your own money (own), but you deserve a sponsor (ha)
He shaped you so perfect (perfect), bae, shout out to your doctor (shout out to your doctor)
New whip, new crib, your bills, they paid (shout out to your doctor)
Good pussy, good credit, your hair stay slayed (shout out to your doctor)
No help from no man, f*ck these niggas, they lame (shout out to your doctor)
F*ck niggas, get money, stay out they way (ha)

Make these niggas earn your time, baby (make these niggas earn your time, baby)
These niggas don't deserve your time, baby (these niggas don't deserve your time)
Make these niggas earn your time, baby (make these niggas earn your time, baby)
These niggas don't deserve your time, baby (these niggas don't deserve your time, baby)
Make them niggas earn your time, baby (make these niggas earn your time, baby)
Them niggas don't deserve your time, baby (these niggas don't deserve your time)
Make these niggas earn your time, baby (make these niggas earn your time, baby)
These niggas don't deserve your time, baby (these niggas don't deserve your time, baby)

Ha, you got your own shit (shit), don't need a nigga nothin' (nothin')
Got everything you need (ha), you ain't f*ckin' for no money (ha)
F*ck niggas, you don't trust 'em, hmm (don't trust 'em)
You won't let these niggas touch you (you won't let these nigga touch you)
F*ck niggas, you don't trust 'em, hmm (f*ck niggas, you don't trust 'em)
You won't let these niggas touch you (you won't let these niggas touch you)

Make these niggas earn your time, baby (make these niggas earn your time, baby)
These niggas don't deserve your time, baby (these niggas don't deserve your time)
Make these niggas earn your time, baby (make these niggas earn your time, baby)
These niggas don't deserve your time, baby (these niggas don't deserve your time)

New whip, new crib, your bills, they paid
Good pussy, good credit, your hair stay slayed
No help from no man, f*ck these niggas, they lame
F*ck niggas, get money, stay out they way

Ask what she want and she say bands, this bitch ain't even from 'Bama
Shorty got too much ass in them jeans, that shit must run in the family
She so different like she come from Venice, so I bought her a tennis bracelet
Girl, bring your friend, fly you to D.R. to f*ck with me and Skilla Baby
That body and that face on you, uh-huh
That's the shit that have me chasin' you, uh-huh
She so pretty and she listen, that's a plus for me
She usually be on the scenery, but she go ghost for me
Her brother and 'nem be smackin' shit, she work but got a rapper wrist
All she do is give me hell, but I still think she heaven-sent
Lowkey nasty, she know I won't tell nobody, yeah, she was bat shit
Way before she got her body did, she a dancer
But she ain't f*cked one nigga in the club
Just to talk to her, nigga gotta come up off a dub

Make these niggas earn your time, baby
These niggas don't deserve your time, baby
Make these niggas earn your time, baby
These niggas don't deserve your time, baby

New whip, new crib, your bills, they paid
Good pussy, good credit, your hair stay slayed
No help from no man, f*ck these niggas, they lame
F*ck niggas, get money, stay out they way
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Kobe Crawford Jr., Rayshawn Gordon, Trevon Gardner
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC




Te Amo

Ha, ha

Te amo, mama (te amo, mama), te amo, mama (te amo, mama)
Te amo, mama (te amo, mama), te amo, mama (te amo, mama)
Te amo, mama (te amo, mama), te amo, mama (te amo, mama)
Te amo, mama (te amo, mama), te amo, mama (te amo, mama)

Ha, lately I think I'm in love with you
You're so pretty dame' un beso
I'm picky but it's somethin' 'bout you
In Miami guiando Lambo
Come run away with me rápido
Vámonos pa' Puerto Rico
En cuatro se siento rico
Me encanta tu totito

Te amo, mama (te amo, mama), te amo, mama (te amo, mama)
Te amo, mama (te amo, mama), te amo, mama (te amo, mama)
Te amo, mama (te amo, mama), te amo, mama (te amo, mama)
Te amo, mama (te amo, mama), te amo, mama (te amo, mama)

Teach me Spanish, I'll teach you English
No habla español, no habla ingles
Feed me food when I get hungry
Yo quiero comerte el culo
Tú quiere', comerme toda
Nadie lo hace como soba
Este toto te controla, uh
Tú sabes que, desde 16
Estoy rompiendo la ley
Baby, I'm not ya bae, I'm just tryna get paid
All these bitches be fake
Quiero poner mi pussy en tu face, yeah
Te gusta por atrás, te gusta por adelante
Tú sabes que a mí me gusta chingar con lo gangster
No te amo, papi, yeah
No te amo, papi, no

Te amo, mama (te amo, mama), te amo, mama (te amo, mama)
Te amo, mama (te amo, mama), te amo, mama (te amo, mama)
Te amo, mama (te amo, mama), te amo, mama (te amo, mama)
Te amo, mama (te amo, mama), te amo, mama (te amo, mama)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Ben Diehl, Ian Lewis, Sophia Valeria, Trevon Gardner
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC




Misfit

[ Featuring Polo G ]

(MIA JAY C)
Ha
Nah, for real (I hear you, JAY C)

Ha (ha), every time I see my opps, I'm gon flip shit (ha, no cap)
In the field, John Madden, it's a hit stick (ayy)
I ain't goin' back broke, I do rich shit (ayy)
I f*ck my hoes on a pile of money, I got rich quick (ha)
Too rich to go on drills, so I send hits (ha)
If rap don't work for me, I know how to flip bricks (nah)
I don't f*ck with nobody, I'm a misfit (no, I don't)
I really spent like ten thousand on this fit (no cap)

I ain't gon' lie, lately I been on my Rick shit
Ain't gotta turn the lights on 'cause my wrist lit ('cause my wrist)
This ain't no lil' boy ice, this a big kit (no cap)
My bitch came with a bitch, my Drac' came with a kit (ha, baow)
I got like a hundred thousand in Amiris, ha (ha)
Nigga, I won't let a stylist get near me (ha)
I don't never see my opps out 'cause they fear me
Them boys only on the 'Gram tryna DM me, ha (ha)
I got a Palm Angels leather jacket on, nigga (no cap)
I rapped about my whole outfit on this song, nigga (no cap)
These ain't no regular goggles that I got on, nigga (ha)
These Chrome, nigga, ha (ha)
I'm young, but my money grown, nigga (ha, no cap)
Temper short, but my money long, nigga (no cap)
You ain't no real P, you are no hitter (ha)
I tell my young nigga, "Go," he gon' go get him (go get him)
Put a switch on the whip, hit like four niggas (brrt)
Nigga, I don't never trip 'cause I know killers ('cause I know killers)
Niggas always talkin' shit that don't know Skilla (ayy)
I'll get a nigga shot tomorrow like GloRilla (ha)
You can only hang with me if you spin shit (on the gang)
Nigga, all my ice water, I do trim shit (on the gang)
All my money blue, all my hoes slim-thick (on the gang)
We spin shit, double back if you don't hit shit (ha)
Ayy, I just got rich, my old niggas been rich (ha)
Man, give that bitch to me, you ain't gon' spin shit (ha)
I'm a rich nigga, I need a rich bitch (ha)
Dollar got a road down the way, he let me send shit (he let me send shit)
Peace to the Gods (peace to the Gods)
I got shot one time and three niggas died (ha)
I cut everybody off, they keep bein' odd (ha)
Some shit I just really leave up to God (I just leave it up to God)
I'm tryna catch a hat, you can see it in my eyes (ha)
I'm the truth nigga, these niggas lyin' (lyin)
If I ain't on they ass, why these niggas dyin'? (Dyin')
If I ain't on they ass, why these niggas cryin'? (Cryin')
If I ain't on they ass, why these niggas hidin'? (Hidin')
If I ain't on they ass, why my niggas slidin'? (Slidin')
My nigga slide by hisself, he shootin' and drivin' (ha)
Uh, ayy
Niggas don't talk shit to me, only fake pages (ha)
I let my lil' nigga slide 'cause they day ages ('cause they day ages)
I don't tell my niggas, "Stay safe," I say, "Stay dangerous"
Rich as f*ck, nigga (ha), wish me luck, nigga, ayy (ha)
Man, I got the other side sick as f*ck, nigga (sick as f*ck, nigga)
And f*ck the dead opps, dig him up, nigga (dig him up, nigga)
Ha

Uh, gang, ayy
Don't respect no new opps, they just fake threats
I just bought some new Glocks with my pay slip
Standin' over him like-, take that, take that
Lil' bro the hottest in the city, they ain't even seen his face yet
Plus he always masked up and he quick to blast somethin'
Got a contract with my killers, so I keep some cash up
Couple opps been goin' missin', I think they got bad luck
And it ain't no competition, nigga, they can't pass us
Back in, skull shit, new switches make 'em fall quick
We go run his ho and turn her mouth into a ball pit
If they ever cross that line of scrimmage, we gon' all blitz
.40 ringin', he got FaceTime, they wish that call missed
From Chiraq like I'm Sosa, I'm who these bitches love
Got blicks on us, mean muggin' while we in the club
He think he steppin', how we thuggin', we gon' give him slugs
Bitch, I'm a gangster like my cousin, it's just in my blood, bitch

Ha, every time I see my opps, I'm gon flip shit (ha)
In the field, John Madden, it's a hit stick
I ain't goin' back broke, I do rich shit
I f*ck my hoes on a pile of money, I got rich quick (ha)
Too rich to go on drill, so I send hits
If rap don't work for me, I know how to flip bricks
I don't f*ck with nobody, I'm a misfit
I really spent like ten thousand on this fit
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Joshua White, Taurus Bartlett, Trevon Gardner
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC




Mama

[ Featuring Rob49, Tay B ]

(Haha, Zai, can you turn that up a little bit?)
Uh, yeah

Bitch go crop a brick of ice 'cause we young and turnt off Betty White (yeah)
Girl, that nigga ain't turnt up like he posted for, now I'm gon' treat you right (yeah)
I might buy you ice, mama (alright)
Hope that pussy tight, mama (alright)
This love at first sight, mama (alright)
You the type I like, mama (yeah)
If your ho ain't darkskin and petite, nigga, she is not my kind
We out here passin' hoes to the gang, when you treatin' his ho like wifey
Now he say he want smoke 'bout the ho, I told him, "Kill somethin' 'bout it" (yeah)
She keep askin' me how her nigga know, bitch, I ain't tell nobody (woo)
F*ck me right, alright? (Yeah)
Stab that pussy, knife, alright?
Baby, you my kryptonite
I wan' give you dick tonight (yeah)
Told you, I'm all in, baby, I'm all in (baby, I'm all in)
Yeah, I hear you're stalkin' (yeah), I'm givin' you good dick (givin' you good dick)
Titties in my hand (yeah), alright
Got bitches shakin' ass (yeah), alright
I know his twin died, alright
I know he miss his mans, nigga
I been countin' blues all day, make a nigga' hands cramp (yeah, pew)
I just gave my ho a ten piece, I am not one of them, yeah (huh)

You know you the coldest
You know you the coldest (you the coldest)
You know you the coldest
Bae, you know you the coldest (you in this ho)
You know you the coldest (you the coldest)
You know you the coldest (huh)
You put that shit on, bae, I like when that shit on you (you the coldest)
You know you the coldest (alright, you the coldest)
You know you the coldest (alright, you the coldest)
You know you the coldest (alright, you the coldest)
Bae, you know you the coldest (huh)
I know you like Chanel (alright), bae, let me put Chanel on you (alright)
I know you like rose gold (alright), bae, let me put Chanel on you (yeah, alright, huh)

You know I'm not thin, when I pull up, I'm comin' trim, alright? (Alright)
Five hundred slips, look like a thigh pad on my hip, alright?
Your old nigga a shrimp, bae, let me take you on a trip, alright? (Yeah)
All my bitches pretty, rich, and thick, don't think your bitch my type (huh, alright)
Yeah, I heard you got a man, but it's alright, mama (alright)
Let's go to the mall, I'm 'bout to buy you what you like, mama, huh (huh)
You would f*ck your rose before these niggas, you my type, mama (mama)
You do that shit right, mama
You deserve some ice, mama (mama)
When you take them clothes off, I get nervous, let me buy you purses
F*ck me with your eyes, you keep playin', you doin' that on purpose (huh)

You know you the coldest
You know you the coldest (you the coldest)
You know you the coldest
Bae, you know you the coldest (you in this ho)
You know you the coldest (you the coldest)
You know you the coldest (huh)
You put that shit on, bae, I like when that shit on you (you the coldest)
You know you the coldest (alright, you the coldest)
You know you the coldest (alright, you the coldest)
You know you the coldest (alright, you the coldest)
Bae, you know you the coldest (huh)
I know you like Chanel (alright), bae, let me put Chanel on you (alright)
I know you like rose gold (alright), bae, let me put Chanel on you (alright, huh)

Yeah, alright, Tay B
Yeah, I'm really rich, alright? (Mm-hmm)
Could take your bitch, alright? (On God)
If you take this strip, alright? (Huh)
You suckin' dick, alright? (Mm-hmm)
I'm a Christian man, it's crosses on my fit, alright? (Alright)
Been hard to go to sleep at night
Good pussy my kryptonite (shh)
Lately, we been flyin' private, kind of hard to miss a flight (on God)
Plain Jane was yesterday, bustdown on my wrist tonight (uh-huh)
I ain't really f*ckin' with the drank, but I might sip tonight
I ain't f*ck my ex in a while, she might get dick tonight (yurr)
My one opp been dead for a while, I know he miss his life (on my mama)
Last month was seventeen five, this month a different price
My advice, if you wanna be turnt, go cop a brick, alright?
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Christian Hamilton, Trevon Gardner, Diamante Warren, Robert Thomas
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC




Bae

(Pipe that shit up, TnT)
(Djaxx got that star shit on him)
Ha

You know you a bad bitch, classy nails, French tip
These bitches can't sit with you, white toes for the hoes
Chanel bag off the Chanel swag, I swear I'm feelin' you
You ain't just cute, you gettin' money too
I'm finna trick on who?

Bae, you know you fine, don't you?
Bae, you know you fine
Bae, you know you fine, don't you?
Bae, you know you fine
Bae, you know you fine, don't you?
Bae, you know you fine
Bae, you know you fine, don't you?
Bae, you know you fine

Ha, you can go bust down, middle part or side
You can go bob, or you can go blonde
You got your own shit, you don't stay with these niggas
You got your own business, got more pape' then these niggas
They think you mean, you ain't got shit to say to these niggas
You'll play with your pussy 'fore you play with these niggas, ha

You know you a bad bitch, classy nails, French tip
These bitches can't sit with you, white toes for the hoes
Chanel bag off the Chanel swag, I swear I'm feelin' you
You ain't just cute, you gettin' money too
I'm finna trick on who?

Bae, you know you fine, don't you?
Bae, you know you fine
Bae, you know you fine, don't you?
Bae, you know you fine
Bae, you know you fine, don't you?
Bae, you know you fine
Bae, you know you fine, don't you?
Bae, you know you fine

You keep gettin' more Birkins, woo
Don't hurt 'em
You know you be on your shit, you make these niggas so nervous
I ain't go lie you bad bad, you got bitches mad-mad
You was thick before the surgery
Now you got ass-ass

You know you a bad bitch, classy nails, French tip
These bitches can't sit with you, white toes for the hoes
Chanel bag off the Chanel swag, I swear I'm feelin' you
You ain't just cute, you gettin' money too
I'm finna trick on who?

Bae, you know you fine, don't you?
Bae, you know you fine
Bae, you know you fine, don't you?
Bae, you know you fine
Bae, you know you fine, don't you?
Bae, you know you fine
Bae, you know you fine, don't you?
Bae, you know you fine
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Devin Wood, Henri Velasco, Marcos Castro Antonana, Thomas Horton, Trevon Gardner
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.




Black Force Music

Ha
Yeah
Yo Tay-O, please don't tell me be safe, nigga, tell that to my opps
Ha, ha

How rich is you, Skilla? Nigga, I'm filthy
I'll never backdoor my mans, it ain't in me
I can't let my guard down 'cause niggas tryna kill me
Same niggas that I send to kill shit used to send me
When I get a drop, a nigga gettin' shot
Treat a bitch-ass nigga like some lean and get him dropped
Please don't tell me be safe, nigga, tell that to my opps
I pull up on niggas' blocks in somethin' bigger than a yacht
Niggas tellin' me to chill, huh? But I'm not
Niggas started shit with me and niggas tellin' me to stop
My opps tell they aunts and they aunts tell the cops
They don't wanna see me dead, they want me sleepin' on a cot

I'm tryna hit somethin', nigga, huh, Black Force music
Done glowed my strap up, I'm tryna get a nigga torched to it
I'm tryna hit somethin', nigga, huh, Black Force music
These niggas finished, man, somebody put a fork through 'em
Black Force music, get a nigga torched to it
Black Force music, man, put a fork through 'em, ha
Black Force music, nigga, we ignore rules
Black Force music, trippin' in the courtroom, ha

On that bullshit, we be on that bullshit (on that bullshit)
On that bullshit, I'm still on that bullshit (on that bullshit)
On that bullshit, I get on some bullshit (on that bullshit)
On that bullshit, we still on that bullshit (yeah)
On that bullshit, we get on that bullshit (on that bullshit)
On that bullshit, I'm still on that bullshit (ha)
On that bullshit, we get on that bullshit (on that bullshit)
On that bullshit, we still on that bullshit (ha, ha)

I got a pocket rocket on me and I'm ridin' with a K
You know me, I'm from the D, I'll get it poppin' in the A
Shit ain't sweet, I still beef 'cause it ain't stop none of my pape'
Catch a nigga in the street, we be done shot him in the face
Brodie on the yard trippin', out there walkin' with a shank
Man, my Drac'll lean a nigga, be done dropped him like some drank
Every weekend, I catch a flight, I'm in another place
I be outside, these niggas do not, 'cause it ain't safe
They do not be on the block, they don't be in TSA
I don't see 'em when I'm in the mall or when I'm in the bank
They say I'm goin' overboard, but these demos gotta lay
Before I turn thirty, gotta let these niggas know that I don't play

I'm tryna hit somethin', nigga, huh, Black Force music
Done glowed my strap up, I'm tryna get a nigga torched to it
I'm tryna hit somethin', nigga, huh, BlackForce music
These niggas finished, man, somebody put a fork through 'em
Black Force music, get a nigga torched to it
Black Force music, man, put a fork through 'em
Black Force music, nigga, we ignore rules
Black Force music, trippin' in the courtroom, ha

On that bullshit, we be on that bullshit (on that bullshit)
On that bullshit, I'm still on that bullshit (on that bullshit)
On that bullshit, I get on some bullshit (on that bullshit)
On that bullshit, we still on that bullshit (yeah)
On that bullshit, we get on that bullshit (on that bullshit)
On that bullshit, I'm still on that bullshit (ha)
On that bullshit, we get on that bullshit (on that bullshit)
On that bullshit, we still on that bullshit (ha)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Darius McCollum, Glen Cole, Trevon Gardner, Victor Lassila
Copyright: Lyrics © LUSH MUSIC LLC, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC




Plate

(You've been the best at times) huh
(You've walked me through my darkest days)
I've been goin' through a lot, but (why must I turn around? I ask myself)
I still manage to pray to God, and
Even though it feel like everybody goin' against me and shit
I still persevere, I push through this shit (I'm not really sure these days)
I got a family to feed (sure these days)
Huh (sure these days)

Is it me God? Why these people on my dick?
I sin, pray, sin again, then go repent
It's like people mad I ain't strugglin', people mad I'm rich
I can shit on everybody, I'm as humble as it get
Could've said, "F*ck everybody", these niggas ain't gave me shit
Who done did more for the city? We eat the most, respect the tent
Who done did more for my mama? I done spent more bustianas
Too generous to be honest, my heart so big, I (I'll let you take a piece of me)

Who really puttin' on for the city though? (I hope you get the peace you need)
Who really take their time out and talk to these kids?
Give back to these kids though? (And if that's)
If I'm wrong, let me know though (not enough)
Yeah, who?
Everybody rich, but who goin' back? (I'll let you go peacefully)
Who bein' seen in the community though? (Oh, yeah)
Who lettin' the kids touch em'

Huh, hmm
It's so much shit on my plate
Could've said, "F*ck everybody", packed my shit and moved away
Rich as f*ck, still ridin' round in five percent tint with a Drac'
I can do bad by myself, I made sure everybody ate
Wasn't nobody around me, I was starvin', real, it was late
I'm up as f*ck, don't give a f*ck, bitches gon' f*ck, niggas gon' hate
Some ho shit happened, every time I elevate, can't catch a break
Yeah, I see 'em, but I still pray, I'm a hypocrite for real
I'm out here tellin' kids to stop the violence, slidin' the same day
Givin' back, catch a hat, givin' back, gettin' back
My opps be out here tauntin' me, them bodies keep on huntin' me
It's lonely at the top for real, somebody keep me company
Be lifeless for real, I deal with life shit for real
I put that shit behind me, but I got less of it front of me, huh
I don't worry about the bullshit, I'm thuggin'
People keep on tellin' me I'm hard to get in touch with
I accept my lifestyle and everything it come with
Catch a flight out of state, go home, get a bucket
These niggas be suspect, I'm always a suspect
I'ma keep on winnin', that's gon' always leave 'em upset
Every day I up, check, they be like, "I bet Skilla gon' fall off", tss, bet
I wanna be the best rapper alive, nigga, nothin' less
They want me to fall off but they lyin 'to my face
Sayin' they love me and- (I'll let you take a piece of me)

Is it me God? Why these people on my dick?
I sin, pray, sin again, then go repent (I hope you get the peace you need)
It's like people mad I ain't strugglin', people mad I'm rich
I can shit on everybody, I'm as humble as it get (and if that's)
Could've said, "F*ck everybody", these niggas ain't gave me shit (not enough)
Who done did more for the city? We eat the most, respect the tent (I'll let you go peacefully)
Who done did more for my mama? I done spent more bustianas (oh, yeah)
Too generous to be honest

You've been the best at times
You've walked me through my darkest days
Why must I turn around? I ask myself (I don't know)
This just ain't fair, so hard to bear (it's not fair)
I'm not really sure these days, sure these days, sure these-
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Dante Bacote, Isaiah Blouir, Julio Alfaro, Leon Michels, Nicholas Movshon, Nicole Wray, Trevon Gardner, Will Cramer
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC




Back to: Skilla Baby


Performed By: Skilla Baby
Length: 48:00
Released: April 26th, 2024
Year: 2024

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