Weeks

I ain't took my chains off in weeks (off in weeks) If I tuck it, they gon' try to kill me anyway Then I'm prayin' to the God of the streets (God of the streets) Way too big to be discreet anyway Hope I fly on the arms of my niggas Wonder why my heart cold? Nigga soul got the shivers Baby, I ain't took my chains off in weeks (off in weeks) Love that shit too big to be discreet (be discreet) He tried to set me up in Dallas, broke into his own car (hahahaha) He not knowin' that I'm psychic, and I glow in the dark Light on us while in Houston, we got throwed in the cross Sidestepping 'fore he could set me, punch a hole in my heart (ha) Cold quarantine game, I looked over your flaws Big God, sellin' raw and I'm controllin' the cops (ugh) Diamonds on my neck, that's a symbol of success Run you up check, you gon' die for your respect Cautious who you entertain, they could be a threat Out of pocket, pull up brrt on you, leave you somewhere stretched (stretched) Artificial dealers, all my visions then got clearer I cross one in the mirror, I'm gon' feel it in my spirit (ooh) I ain't took my chains off in weeks (off in weeks) If I tuck it, they gon' try to kill me anyway Then I'm prayin' to the God of the streets (God of the streets) Way too big to be discreet anyway Hope I fly on the arms of my niggas Wonder why my heart cold? Nigga soul got the shiver Baby, I ain't took my chains off in weeks (off in weeks) Love that shit too big to be discreet (be discreet) G-wag', G-Wag' Big bag, big bag C-note, C-note Brrt-brrt, so much machine smoke Ooh, only ones that ride on 'side me Are the ones willin' to die though Now I keep it underwater (turn up by myself) Let it breathe (Turn up by myself) Right there Just got this brand new thing, rrrah They did exchange when the shots fired Reportin' live with the Glock .9 by the Southside Recordin' live, bitch I'm in the studio right now In Carolina, you could pull up on me right now (pull up on me right now) We outside, yeah, ayy Hol' up, pour up (you dig?) I glisten hard, my earrings, dawg This for Mazzi, Rollie, I never take my chain off (chain off) Never talkin', I give that, already take your brain off (brain off) Mr. Carti' made it glist', then I wiped it on my wrist (I did) He be shootin' shots at Brassy But his posture not like this, bitch I ain't took my chains off in weeks (off in weeks) If I tuck it, they gon' try to kill me anyway Then I'm prayin' to the God of the streets (God of the streets) Way too big to be discreet anyway Hope I fly on the arms of my niggas (arms of my niggas) Wonder why my heart cold? Nigga soul got the shiver Baby, I ain't took my chains off in weeks (off in weeks) Love that shit too big to be discreet (be discreet) G-wag', G-Wag' Big bag, big bag C-note, C-note Brt-brrt, so much machine smoke G-wag', G-Wag' Big bag, big bag C-note, C-note Brrt-brrt, so much machine smoke