Lyrics:
Glizzock
Big Glock, yeah (yeah)
(Ceeo, turn that beat up)
I was raised by my grandma, young nigga was bad as hell
Know my mama wanna rap 'cause
floating by
I told you once now told you twice that all snakes like to hide
We shake em down they all fall off just like a jenga pile
No tic tac toe we cross
flip those
I'm the boy, case closed like a flip phone
I just wanna skrt off, in a Lambo
All by myself, like Commando
Boy i go hard, like Rambo
You know i
on the streets
She was telling me her problems
How she was crossed by her peeps
And, fucking talking
I was addressing with ease
Hit her momma's house in peace
That's the way it goes, that's the name of the game
Young brother getting over by slanging 'caine
Gold around his neck and 14K heavy
Bitches clockin'
and kicks, I've..
Shit
Off the record on this record I'ma record
Why I do this shi
Bitch I view this shii
As a session with a therapist
Like Dwayne and Kev
Johnny
It don't stop
All my homies just dropped
And I think the killing should stop
And the piece on your hip homies way hot
Imma kick it like K-dot
But
flexing/
Kick her off the bus u get nexted/
Money comes and goes its a blessing/
Bout to be the best i ain’t stressing/
Aint Tryna ride that’s yo sign that u
He said that uh, you keep posting him you gon' make him blow up
Does that worry you at all? Like you blowing these other artists up by going back
from clubs
Watching absent minded n****s get high off they drugs
Puff puff pass some cops just wanna cuff and harass
Taking your freedom like how
30k off a screen
Money connected it flow like a stream
Killin' the game, Ghostface don't scream
Chemicals in my brain make me go sleep
Gotta swim in
that brought Versace
To the centerfold (‘sace)
Take off on the plug
I hit ‘em with the finger roll (yeah)
If you can buy the car then what
The fuck you
shit
So be it, cause I'm the one y'all never worry about
Let's go
Body bag, zip em up, call me K-Shine
Fuck a chain, fuck a watch, I let the K shine
talkin' really and I need it, mon
Flows, I kick 'em freely mon, especially off Remi, mon
Keys to my Beemer, mon, holla at Beenie Man
See me, mon,
the suitcase, I'm in the lead room
This check was loaded, equipped, with fifths
Porcelain handles with horse back kicks, whispered
"You know what, Ghost, I do
of the world
Westside get up K-Town
Twista get em
Now now
I'm a old G in the city and ya knew one day
A nigga was gon' come along and spit that real shit
Say K, are we gon' lay up back?
Kick this bitch raw, you heard me
Like some of that ol' [Incomprehensible] shit
Microphone check, check, check one
What's up
If you from Flint
Get out ya seat
Get up off your ass
Drink your brew and smoke that grass
We fixin to rock from Pontiac to Lansing back
nah
Nothing Was The Same by Graham Dreezy
Used to put this song on repeat whenever you kick it with me
You were a good cook, used to do macaroni
by ourselves
Fuck all that shit that u buy off the shelf send it to hell (For real)
I got bones to pick we got rocks flip I got stones to kick we know
nigga, attackin' ya.
These 4-5 hollow tips will have you backin' up.
I only do my dirt at night like dracula.
I'm wanted by the feds, these
My men, my men
[Chorus]
For all my niggaz in the places with blunts in they faces
Off the two turntables with the anvil cases
It's the L-I-K
get off, by the ounce
On the G.O., my P.O. is a dickhead twerp
Yeah, he a jerk and love to cock block work
And my next door neighbor, yeah, he got
to talk tough so he got whacked
I could make a hundred band play off the zap
He be steady talking bout shit he never had
She call me daddy I ain't even her
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