Lyrics:
duration of October
But now that's over
cnd cs I look back atm what you did
I see the games you played
I'm a smart man I ain't failing for this
I keep going what we on I got good lawn in my joints
My girl looking all on point always see us in rare form
I got bars I got songs All the shit
Nigga, I had a hell of a day
But I admit I was in my own way (hell of a day, in my own way)
I admit I had my mama cryin' over me, what else can a nigga
I'm fucked up
but thankful that i get to live
I wonder what type of shii im gonna have when i cop me a atm crib
I know tht my mama gone be proud
Used to treat my mattress like the ATM
Bond number 9 that's my favorite scent
Can't forget the kush I'm talking OG
Rest in peace to Pop, he was
Used to treat my mattress like the ATM, yeah
Bond number 9 that's my favorite scent, yeah
Can't forget that kush, I'm talking OG, yeah
Rest in
call points out that your nose is drippin blood
You laugh it off cause honestly you just don't give a fuck
Make her hit up an ATM and drive for that
Ay fuck it let me get back to it
I really been me nah I don't need no ho
If yeen ATM then you can't call me bro
G5 be on point and got one in the hole
ears off and take my face
Bout my digits my six sense gone help me find a way
Hopping over spikes like I'm in a temple
Dodging all these obstacles like
I say I do this every time you ain't changing me
I got my ATMs looking like a game to me
It's to the point where even hundreds is some change to me
blame
But is the money worth it if he don't love you the same
Memories made by maids love starts to fade
At the point where dad can't even tell you his
been the shit
I ain't gotta front
This n**** mad 'cause I ain't give him fronts
So I blow his ass like a fucking joint
If he don't get the point
I been
The views from the presidential suite look stupid like I hang with Biden
Just down my fourth shot of Patron
At this point, Wardell Curry probably couldn't
the pretty kitty
Leave a X over its eyes like a cards clown
Shit! That's a fuckin' bar
Fuck her in a '69, that's a fuckin' car
Rolls Royce and the roof is
Quit running your lips
You motor mouths
That block politic
We vote'em out
Spray a round
Might be bullets over ballots
To shut down the yada
a fake I am
Spray-paint my initials on an ATM
I'd burn my cash and smash my old TV
Will you be a nihilist with me?
If nothing matters, man, that's
thoughts into a photo
A picture perfect brain
Is something I can't maintain
Memories in frames
That's the point of the game
Stressing over the minute hands
the dice (Let's go)
Uh
'Bout a minute in
I been getting it in
Hoe it's me against me at the Wimbledon
I'm just racking up points we go 10 for 10
It never
So what’s it gonna be man?
Neither?
You do have to choose at some point.
But what if I don’t want to?
Then you’re gonna end up right here again.
But
diamonds, average bout 15 points
All my T.V. VS, nothing less than the best
So I guess, that means I got expensive breath
But I'm more than just jewelry,
and cash out same day
I beat the brakes off a nigga he didn’t cooperate
Leaving him laying in his blood till it start coagulating
Money over bitches was
Corey pulls the car over
Puts his hands up
Reaches for his wallet
Only has a hundred bucks
Jimmy gets pissed
And say I know you got some more
He takes
they come outside
You might hit one with our car, and yell
"Twenty points!"
They might rob your ass
They might pop your ass
It all depends on if, your
they come outside
You might hit one with our car, and yell
"Twenty points!"
They might rob your ass
They might pop your ass
It all depends on if, your
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