Eighty
Deep Ends
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We was on that F*ck the Prada, let's f*ck up some up enchiladas And pissing off my momma' with cousin to cousin drama We kick it at mi casa, my papa was sippin' vodka Got people up on a mission to fill they pockets with products Just hopin to make a profit, stealing from supermarkets I couldn't knock the hustle regardless of how they got it They pullin up with Jordan's and fronting it like they bought it But f*ck it, let's get a pardon and rock it out like we ballin', 'cause my Noodles was ramen, the knowledge uncommon I had a heart and soul of diamonds, only problem was timing Before I was rhymin', before I first decided on grinding We rolling on 80, the way to Sacramento, we flyin I see a siren, n***a sit back, 'cause all I got is shit tags Rollers pull us over tryna' beak is like a Kit-Kat Cuff a n***a up it's tight enough to make my wrist crack So f*ck you with yo' bitch ass, go tell that to yo' dispatch, n***a Personality poppin' but never popular Never gave a f*ck because I'm better off anonymous Better off with my cannabis and my consciousness Keep a small circle, I'm the colonel of this mobbin' shit Picking pockets for profit and selling pocket rockets Keep it solid, on topic, and never talk about it Never speak of the problem that we have been involved with Convince 'em all that we alcoholics and never got it Last year I made stack off writing a love song About a girl who ain't ever hit me back Last month I said I'll write my last verse Then I caught a buzz dropped an album I'm still waiting on a plaque Who would've known the fat kid from junior high Would be greatest to ever do it, dead or alive I'm still on the same shit with new money Motherfuckers know me in the ends cause I Been good since it was Goodwood with snapbacks I had bad bitches before y'all even had Snapchats Callused hands from dragging bodies in big bags I rapped about haters before I had fans I was raised suburban with alcoholics and bourbon In Subaru's driving past rich girls in foreigns Born on the south side of Sacramento It was cereal, PBS and my brother on Nintendo Yeah, look My grandpa had liquor pouring it's how I came up learning He had jaded nerves, I spit hereditary verses I only ever stole one time from my momma's purses That's why Ima' blow up put the money back and buy her roses Every day momma's day 'cause more than me, she deserves it I learned in hospitals that nothing's perfect I got my name on a necklace in gold, so they think I'm worth it I got my name on a necklace in gold, so they think I'm worth it I came from ripped jeans and free TV These days I'm six deep and on TV I told you one day I'll be up momma' Ima' move to LA and sell CDs I said f*ck a .38 Ima' sell out Ace of Spades I been makin' money move Used to spit in granny's face All you yuppies shootin blanks I just bought my first chain Me and JAYE bought a grill I can't f*ck with all these fakes Now I'm talkin' 'bout back pain my track game hit I got karats on earrings, I need things quick Milo made like a hunnit'-k in a couple days All my boys in the backseat, we been heat I just moved off the back street to Main Street wait I just changed out the 2 seat to 4 seats wait Changin' lanes on the 80 it made me I live off of the 80 it made me
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Written by: Camilo Rodriguez, Enzo Sullivan, Golden Pryor
Lyrics © DistroKid
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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"Eighty Lyrics." Lyrics.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 29 Apr. 2024. <https://www.lyrics.com/lyric-lf/3670093/Deep+Ends/Eighty>.
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