Devine - checks in the mail

What I'm sayin
Think I'm playin
Nigga pull up
You so silly
You must really
Got me fucked up

Woke up this morning got my bag off the shelf
Got out the car and I was feeling myself
Shout out to God I been doing so well
Counting this money getting checks in the mail

Finna talk my shit
Swervin so hard man I almost got hit
Ain't heard nothin from him
Yea it's been a minute
Ghosted me hard
I thought baby was a whip
He Only Hits
When he need a quick fix for his pride
Pray for his spirit
Put a extra dose of pep in his stride
He never settle cause
It ain't no bit of real in his eyes
Travel around
Collecting souls
While he closing his thighs
A bone collector
Another didn't expect to
Have to take so long
To get
Over your text
Or check ins
When you touch down to LAX
Stay on ig plotting on
Who you got next
Nigga
You cold

What I'm sayin
Think I'm playin
Nigga pull up
You so silly
You must really
Got me fucked up

Woke up this morning got my bag off the shelf
Got out the car and I was feeling myself
Shout out to god I been doing so well
Counting this money getting checks in the mail

Always had a thing for gold
Never was I trippin off the way it glittered
Too cold glistenin on my skin
Makin niggas shiver
Roses
You should give me mine while I'm still livin
What is luck
When opportunity is not just given
Only
Preparation and
Dedication behind my rhythm
Judgin me
For what you see
But I have
Yet to mention that
God gave me a son
And In August hes turning one
I Used to do this shit for fun
But I'm HIS mother now
And I'm his only one
So fear is none
It can't exist
I'm back to killin shit
No fucks about yo feelings
Bitch I'm comin
That's just what it is
Flow so primitive
In my initiative
To show him how it's done
Really I
Just now have begun
Big balls call me hung
Pacing myself
As I run
Crossing niggas with my mental
Moonwalking
With my tongue

What I'm sayin
Think I'm playin
Nigga pull up
You so silly
You must really
Got me fucked up

Woke up this morning got my bag off the shelf
Got out the car and I was feeling myself
Shout out to god I been doing so well
Countin this money getting checks in the mail

What I'm sayin
Think I'm playin
Nigga pull up
You so silly
You must really
Got me fucked up

Woke up this morning got my bag off the shelf
Got out the car and I was feeling myself
Shout out to god I been doing so well
Counting this money getting checks in the mail

Written by:
Rianna Devine

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

Lyrics powered by Lyric Find