Lyrics:
I beat yo' ass twice and you still here
Seven years old, think you run this house by yourself?
Nigga, you gon' fear me if you don't fear no one else
I beat yo' ass twice and you still here
Seven years old, think you run this house by yourself?
Nigga, you gon' fear me if you don't fear no one else
And I ain't leavin' the house
Without that in my hand
And it ain't only the cops
It's niggas on your block
That talk like a lil' bitch and
Act like they
nigga, ayy
An imaginary rich nigga, ayy
Seven figures hold that slimmer than my bitch figure, ayy
Goin' digital and physical on all y'all, ayy
Bunch
Speaking for the young ones and the chasers
The ones that's misguided by their greatness
Holdin' on to fakeness
Scratch that deamon off it dont make
your ass iced
And get your bitch's head sliced Seven E ain't nice
See playing gangsta ain't no game cause once you get game over once
That's it cause
the dooch powder
Summer's Eve, I drop degrees chill
Come four by four, lose one like Dru Hill
Stay fly till you air sick, now that's ill
Two choices,
Come four by four, lose one like Dru Hill
Stay fly 'til you air sick, now that's ill
Two choices, either squeeze or peel, now that's real
What
your paddles
Leave me to face the infinity moonlight I was blocked by the window
But what does it mean
I just kept on moving on the way to consume coffee
Said it don't matter how I start the lecture
Cause by conclusion you confused just looking at the letters
H i z z y, followed by OG
Question
was stabbed by a bitch in the chest
Sent by a knife to his eternal rest
I'd trade with you in heartbeat, bro
But there's no room in heaven for my
I jump in this bitch and go so crazy they can't stop what I'm on
Stuff them bows up in three.five's this packaging been Mylar
First year been
my veins, arrivin' by plane
G4 to be exact, rewards of beats and raps
Three whores before four and three more are bein' cracked (facts)
That was
Washed Money man
This shit ain't on you, it's on you, man
Let's go
I been accumulated wealth
Ran the bag up by myself
200 bands with no help
Out
like you was a homie but you knew they was some haters for some years
The same mufuckas that you slide wit cry wit ride wit lie wit even share beers
Be
The Surface Hard To Scratch
Until We End Up Sexin And Now My Heart Attached
I'm Thinkin Off I Should've Been More Southern
And Realizing All That She Wanted Was
the homies, that's on me
24/7, Kendrick reppin' these cold streets
Don't we live by it, die by it, then reincarnate
And if Game told me, "Drive by it," I
the night
I knew who I was when I was seven
No reverence for the reverend
All this pomp and circumstance
The fakeness is ridiculous, the pump will make
(boo-boo-boo-boom, uh, uh, uh, uh)
I spray the Tesla X, you need a new body (skrrt)
Fifty K, got my bitch a new body (ah)
You internet niggas, y'all punani (err,
and the threads that I done be packing
Nah these ain't even called slacks
Trousers truly finna be mad flattering
With the avant-garde patterns
Higher fashion by
Christmas
I just stay trappin' 'til the new year enter
This deuce holds seven, this trey holds five
And this .9 holds ten plus like six more
I left my
After the show MAD calls for the ho
You can save all the chit-chatter and all the bitchin
By this time next year you'll be fuckin politicians
Every one
through the swamp, nigga, follow me through the foxholes
Moral Orenthal with a pretty bitch in a Bronco
Hopped right off the seven and stumbled into some
on the bed, seven years old, ha
Fell in love with the streets (yeah, yeah)
Fell in love with the streets (yeah, yeah)
Fell in love with the streets (yeah,
.jpg/280px-Lee_Scratch_Perry_2016_(9_von_13).jpg "Lee \"Scratch\" Perry")
.jpg/300px-Scratch_Massive@La_Laiterie(SXB).jpg "Scratch Massive")
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