Baby C4 - C4 Flow

I'm with that flow nigga, C4, gang, ayy, let's go
Compete with myself every day, it's a must
Rappers they wack and them niggas they dust
Was better back then now that nigga a bust
Fuck how they feel, I be running it up
Caught a play off a flip tryna give me a buck
Keep it a p, how I really came up
Ain't a miracle no it was never no luck
S-550, I need me a Benz
I ball like the chiefs so I'm always gon win it
Ain't have no money but that was back then
I listened to Pops, he was dropping them gems
Really he want me to hop in the gym
I'm switching my route, I'ma clear out the lens
Chasing the bag, no I don't need friends
I'm really a dog, time to hop out the den
Poverty past, it taught me to hustle
Pushing my name, got that shit off the muscle
If I get my foot in the game, they in trouble
A hole in the game, I'm the piece of the puzzle
Back on that shit, yeah, I'm done being humble
They talking about his hits , yea I got me a couple
Be chilling don't like all that yelling, I like my hoes subtle
But when I be in it, I like a lil' rumble
These ain't no sketchers , it's Balenciaga
Got a Lil vibe, yeah, she bad like Rihanna
I'm chasing the racks, I ain't talking Osaka
LV on my body like I'm from Nevada
Talking to Von, he say, bro, you're up next
Pull up my stats but I'm not tryna flex
I told her to call me, I don't like the text
I'm far from the rest, yeah, I'm not like your ex
Running this shit til' my soul in the mud
Dripping so much, think I'm starting a flood
You fuck with my family, I get it in blood
I got me a heart , but ain't showing no love
Raised in VA yeah, I got that shit tatted
Number one pick, I ain't have to be drafted
The money be calling, it's coming in quick
Write a goal on my wrist till I cop me a patek
Bitch, okay, I'm higher than Mars
I feel like I'm Elon
Cop me a chain that's a VV, don't stare it long
I swear this shit brighter than neon
Think I'm too much in my prime, but fuck is my time
I lock up the game like I'm Deion
I don't know what bitches be on
But I know they lying and, bitch, I ain't talking bout Leon
I ran up my bag, don't care bout the fame
They going out sad, yo, hustle to blame
I only see zeros, that's Virgil my frame
Don't call me yo twin, cus we far from the same
Kiss to my angels, yeah, this for your name
A nigga too lit, you can't put out the flame
My music gon' speak, I don't gotta explain
You know I'm finessing the game
45 chains like Dang, I drop me a bag
And now I be looking like Rain
I swear this shit going insane
I popped me some pills for the pain
I'm back in my lane, and now I be balling like Dame

Written by:
Kevin Harris

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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