Cognac801, Mistah F.A.B., T-Nutty - Trip A Ref

We came from foreign places, now we drive foreign cars
Used to like the hood rats, fell in love with these foreign broads
Rubber band to wrist, now we spending bands on watches
Came a long way from pro-wings and Oshkosh B'goshes

Now we party on yachts, we used to post on blocks
Carti lenses with rocks, mama smoked on rocks
Can't feel my pain, let me spill my pain Memories of daddy shooting up put chills in
my veins But you never know what you never came from

Cause you ain't never been where I been Brother got 20 years, I was just a little
kid 20 years later, brother still in the pen
Mama gone, daddy gone, been a rough road Never had a handout, had to hustle
Out the mud, had to grind let the bucks grow Off the roof like I'm hoopin' with Nutso

Now I pull up in the coupe, now I write songs for Snoop
Ballin they ask do we hoop A long way from the bunk beds, me and Nupe
We used to hustle for Jordans, now I be chillin' with Steph
I sit so close at the games, I could go trip me a ref

Trip me a ref, trip me a ref I sit so close at the games, I could go trip
me a ref Trip me a ref, trip me a ref
I sit so close at the games
I just state facts, I don't tell fibs All of my folks, yeah they know what it is

Real as they come, bitch hella dumb Hatin' on me cause I hit and I run
Gone, gone, on to the next Stuck in the field, I might trip me a ref
Moving weight in the gym and in these streets Write all my raps and I'm making these beats
Fuckin' with me, Know she a freak Pussy on fleek, paying a fee

This gotta be cold as shit wrote Won't spark no weed but I might pull a fo
No, I gotta stay disciplined Working on health but these people not listening
I don't fuck with them cause they just might switch again
Keeping it moving is all that I know Ain't bout no money, don't answer the phone

Get your shit together, I'm better alone Cut from that car so this cannot be cloned
I'm living a life that's more solid than stone Came from a zone, up to a Q
Y'all know the rest man, I'm speaking the truth My life in the movie, all facts in this booth
There's lessons in pain that you gotta go through I thought you knew, the streets ain't a game

My bars are like art and my paint is the pain Just because we alike it don't make us the same
Shit, we hustle for food and they did it for fame
Lame, just a word to describe The way I was raised it was try to survive
My past was so dark but my future is bright From the block to the top, from the ground to the sky

Yeah, trip me a ref Trip me a ref
I sit so close to the games I can go trip me a ref
Trip me a ref Trip me a ref
I sit so close to the games

I've been in the street for real I've been trying to eat for real
All I know is keep it real When niggas be faking I get to stripping
I'm naked and waking everybody up if they sleeping still
Undefeated with my feet in the field Let them have it if they need it for real

Automatic you can see that I'm ill Saw the magic in the hustle
Came about the struggle just a brother that the people can feel
Had to hit the flow and bounce back Time to get some dough and count stacks
Cause when the times get hard we get to grinding hard I'm like a signing star in all black

When it's real they know that Niggas don't talk they show that
Walk that walk with no cap I'ma keep it pushin' on four flats
T-Nutty your buddy and shots out the cognac

Written by:
Todd Jones, Stanley Cox, Ernest Mondragon

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid, JN MEDIA MUSIC PUBLISHING

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