Blake Go Wavy - i$$ue (feat. Moneythelegend & FAT CUH)
I'm really tryna know
Said I'm really tryna know
I'm really tryna know, shorty what's the issue
Yeah, I'm really tryna know, shorty what's the issue
I'm bout to hit the store, later I'ma hit you
Later I'ma hit you, yeah
Later I'ma hit you
Later I'ma hit you
I'm really tryna know, shorty what's the issue
I'm bout to hit the store, later I'ma hit you
You see I'm on the go
Hit my weed, I'm out the door
I'm really tryna know, shorty what's the issue
I'm bout to hit the store, later I'ma hit you
You see I'm on the go
Hit my weed, I'm out the door
(Moneythelegend)
Trapped in the streets, tryna find my way out
Fly ass n***a tryna work to a house
On my wrist and my bands, been friends
Know this money getting shitted, not the end
Money making n****s out to rethink
What they doing, what they think
Tryna put us in positions that are always in
Everybody gon' be no greed
Up all night, how you work hard
Don't get no sleep
Money like a, I'm a star
Even if they don't want me
To be, I is
Cause I am, man cause he say so
The poor love stone, I know
They gon' hate though
Love stone might not always be real
No matter how many times n****s fold
I'ma always stay, ten toes
In the real, gon' respect
Occupy, this ain't spit the facts in
N****s wanna verse, I'ma need nothing less than
A soft vibe, flip that to a light tin
Rolex 01ES300
Flip out to a hard Bentley
I'ma go hard, until I ain't got no more to give
Bitch, cause ain't no quit than me
N****s, it's much
Ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy
Oof, oof, oof, oof, oof
I'm really tryna know
Shawty, what's this
I'm bout to hit the store
Later I'ma hit you
See I'm on the go
Hit my weed, I'm out the door
Love a motherfucker with six
I'm really tryna know
Shawty, what's this
I'm bout to hit the store
Later I'ma hit you
See I'm on the go
Ayy, ayy, ayy
Hit my weed, I'm out the door
Skrrt, skrrt, skrrt
(FAT CUH)
Look, I'm smooth like my bands
Fat Cuhz, Crip Street
I'm the man, yeah, I'm rollin
Custom backwoods, find the leaves
While I'm smokin
in the air on the gang
And it's potent (and it's po)
You ain't livin' like me
You ain't chasin' no bag
You ain't chargin' bitches fee
I ain't pimpin' bitches I'm mackin
And gettin' rich up off the back end
Bout to send another pack
Runnin' racks in
Cross country trappin
Took a break from this rappin
Had to make a couple moves
Stallin' then you choose
Feelin' like Neo on the gang
I had to choose
Blue strips, nigga
Took a few trips, nigga
Took them chances for finances
What you know about it
Beat the case for 36
I had to stroll up out it
Didn't wait to hit them streets
Cause that's old news
Niggas hatin' on my weight
But let your hoe choose
I'm a different breed of nigga
Got pounds for the high
But we got the same day
How you let your shit slide
I'm a real East nigga
I was born to get fly
Bad bitches love the Crip
And I don't even know why
I'm really on my shit
Yeah, I'm really that guy
I talk a lot of shit
But I'm humble as pie
I been rollin' in the Benz
All day gettin' high
I'm prayin' to the homies
Hope they help me get by
Cuhz I been doin' evil shit
Cuhz I can't even lie
I don't suck your baby mama
Put my kids in the eye
Cuhz you been typin' all that shit
But you scared of my face
Hard Crip on the homies
It ain't shit but a case
(Blake Go Wavy)
I'm really tryna know
Shawty, what's the issue
I'm bout to hit the store
Later I'ma hit you
See I'm on the go
Hit my weed, I'm out the door
I'm really tryna know
Shawty, what's the issue
I'm bout to hit the store
Later I'ma hit you
See I'm on the go
Hit my weed, I'm out the door
I said I'm really tryna know
Shawty, what's the issue
I'm bout to hit the store
Later I'ma hit you
Yeah, I don't know about you
I don't need no more
Just like a X, I don't need that Ho
Lil' water, some more blunts
Hit the store
Took the work out the store
Sixteen with the Benz on road
Smashin' in the back of the Benz, oh
Keep it cool, keep it simple
Give me head, baby, let me
See what you into
Go hard but I give it to a her gentle
Thirsty for a bottle, shorty sip slow
She shake that ass, I ain't have to tell her get low
Get ya money, don't forget to work your wrist ho
Poppin' shit flow, hittin' like a pistol
Keep a bad bitch, slicka than sum , Crisco
Shinin' when I ball like the disco
You always stand tall when you ten-toe
Yeah, ten-toe
It's a business, I know, wrist ho
So then get low
Skrr, skrr, skrr, skrr
Skrr, skrr, skrr, skrr
Skrr, skrr, skrr, skrr, skrr
Skrr, skrr, skrr, skrr
Skrr, skrr, skrr, skrr
Skrr, skrr, skrr, skrr
Skrr
Written by:
Louie Supreme
Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
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