Papeman - Bad Wreck

On the road trippin, dawg, I'm hittin' the shoulder, Lil Uzi
Heard you went to court and said more names than the end of a movie I'm detoxin', drinkin' smoothies
I refuse to move loosely
I avoid confrontation, everything be goin' smoothly
That's the right street, you see a knocked-down stop sign
I know somebody ain't got no whip, but sit there and buy a 3.5
I can't lie, got a play in Fort Smith, but that's a long drive
Can eyeball ten bands, but
I can barely see out my left eye
I ain't gon' lie to you, nothin' come overnight
Swear to God, it's nothin to set a little goal, Fisher Price
I love the money, dawg, I'm into racks, like the Windy City
This drank cost a frontal, man, it can run you about five-fifty
I stay busy, I ain't got no time for no lil' games
I want a milli, but sometimes life hit you with a lil' rain
I'ma stay the same, I don't care about no fame
Like a broke bike, I'm in the club, letting my chain hang
I paid thirty for my pendant
You know I'm in it to win it
I think my young dawg need a accountant, the way he keep
On spinnin'
Walked in the Gucci store, told them boys, give me the whole rack
Man, the only time I look at a total, is a bad wreck
Everybody know, Papeman, got it, ain't even gotta show it
You got a line, you got a pint, it don't matter, let's get the pouring
I love scoring
Like a exchange student, I'll pull up with a foreign
Wish Instagram had a ban if
You on your story posting corn
The Lord know I'm genuine, if I get hurt, I could die with that
At the airport, I'm prayin' to God, them boys don't check my backpack
Can't backtrack
My custo mad, I just sold my last pack
Can't downplay a nine-to-five, cause
Off that, I saved ten racks

Written by:
Trayvon Burl

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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