Sb.tv

I won't stop grinding till my cash is right Pen house suit got the flashing lights I don't give a fuck if my album drops I'm a platinum in the streets I've got a thousand shots All I do is make money I don't chase women Hopped out the coup ten chains swinging Chill on my block build a paper plane I'm in the streets to race, no sega game Everyday is the same, they changed the name But I'm still slanging up in taylor's lane I'm the club with a strally on my waist line Holds 12 but is guaranteed to spray nine They wanna know when the mix-tapes coming out While I'm hoping these bricks ain't running out Filling out the clientèle, giving out free yays Stepping on the powder, cocaine dj'ing Moving keys but I keep loosing p's And I hardly get high cah I'm immune to cheese My p's going up and down like sand in an hour glass Call me Mr Burns I'm the man with the power-plant I'll be chilling with my young bucks 30K on my neck, swinging like some nun-chucks Chilling on the strip bait, but I'm out here spending like at this rate I got the Nina I don't lift weights I paint pictures, I'm nice with the words The only thing cheap about me is the price on them words Close your eyes when I get in the zone Got a quarter 'mil line this ain't a regular phone, They be watching my p's, I'm stocked up with cheese It stinks so I gotta spray my block with febreeze If them hoes ever see how I knock off them keys When I tell them give me brain they will drop to their knees Go over seas, get my mind straight Left my workers with a line and 2 keys, something light weight Certified trap-star, I ain't gotta say it And I don't ever see the food, I let my shotters weigh it Hoes looking at the pinky when I change gears I'm out here moving onions, these ain't tears With the AK, ill hit you up from long range Got my weight up, a couple friends have gone strange Just spend 7G's to make a 1000 back My neighbours see them birds flying out the trap Get your facts straight before you diss my team And I ain't got a girlfriend, I sold that bitch a dream Lord forgive me, I done a lot of dirt I break down keys so this rap shit ain't gotta work I stay on my grind, my work rate great Tell a bitch if she ain't fucking on the first date skate Them hoes are pinging but I ain't replying Cah my phone keeps ringing, I'm always supplying If I go pen, I'm shooting grade on the wing And its looking like I spilled lucozade on my ring 5 bricks gone in one day, I trap hard The mix-tape got more bangers than a scrap yard Whoever thought I'd me moving these bricks Copped a Q then I blew like a Crip Must be crazy if you think my jewels are fake Every time my phone rings I'm loosing weight Its like I gotta ride out on my jack jones Cah man ah keep talk bait on the tapped phones I don't care about views on the net Hands on cah my workers ain't moving correct Heavy jewels on my neck, so I cruise with a tech And if I pull it out, I'll leave your goons on the deck Ask about me, I've been in birds view Still hungry like the day I bought my first Q Times have changed if them paigans have switched sex I sold a billion O's but I ain't rich yet Chilling on my block, bare clowns about They werent around when I was in the bookie, down and out Happy when I went broke and I had to consign a 7 How you like me now? I pull up in a 9/11 I ain't made a wack song yet Told my youngers to put me a chain, stacks on deck Im A'Jd out, used to wear denim clothes Niggers thought ill never blow when I started selling draws Wrapping out all night im soo knackered Me and lil T, united like Old Trafford With my delivery, if I was in this industry id clearly sell But im caught up in this scary world, ain't no fairy tale