8 Mile Ray - PERSONA

Money always coming first
I can't keep a bitch
I can't stress about the past
It won't get me Rich
I don't battle rap with Niggas
I'm just making hits
Ain't going back and forth with rappers
I just send a blitz
Niggas talking all this pape ain't got a place to stay
Dawg claiming he got pull where the Wizard's play
Rock the cradle on these Niggas like I'm Dr. J
I called Jersey for the lo
He say he in the A
I ain't scared to take a risk, And send a bitch to Dallas
See the opps and turn the club to Malice of the Palace
How you fresh?
You hit the crib you gotta make a pallet?
Nigga, you should be ashamed out here snatching glasses
Cuz sipping out the glass it put him in a coma
The spot cold, but the kitchen hot as Arizona
Baccarat or YSL, That's for my aroma
I'm a shit-talking bastard , That's my persona
Street money all 20's busting through the seams
They say Amiri played out I had to switch to jeans
Boy you living with your granny why you copping bling
I'm finna take a nigga bitch and add her to the team
You got down on yo mans
That's a violation
I fell off and ran it back like I'm Walter Payton
Ain't sharing blunts with you Niggas Man I'm cookie facing
My Migo middleman the work
He gon' keep it Straighten
Nowadays I get a check, I used to rap for free
He saying we can't come where?
We gon' come and see
Atlanta bitch asking where I'm from
Bitch I'm from the D
I'm in the room with a singer making R&B
My left pocket Old 50's, But the 100's new
Bitches asking who we is?
We that one crew
Nigga, I just stuffed a backwood now my lungs threw
I'm a Timbo talker fucking bitches out the sunroof
Remember we was plugged in up in T-Mobile
Dawg talking bout he need a feat
I sent three vocals
I just found another play
I need three locals
Talking cash shit, it's Cartier's for my bifocals
Why you keep calling me gang?
I do not know you
You ain't one of mine, you wanna hustle?
I cannot show you
Like I ain't friendly with these Niggas
I am not social
I'm the coach, boy, you niggas, that's my sons, I'm like Frank Vogel
Why you talking all this gangsta shit and you be telling shit
Cut into my bitch and started insulting her intelligence
Nigga, you ain't got no Pape like you scared of it
Got into my bag
Bitches tell me I look better rich

Written by:
Ray H

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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