Boi Mystery - ACROSS THE BORDER

Yeah, yeah
People become fake with fame
She make sure that I stay straight, VVS light up my face
I've been havin' crazy dreams
Yeah, yeah yeah
I wanna make some bank, then retire, man I don't wanna ball out
Dank, from my supplier, I'ma puff it all down
I'ma puff it all down, I'ma puff it all down
I'ma puff it all down, I'ma puff it all down
Han, kick that shit
I done flew some packs across the border
Everything I do is goin' historic
Logo always AMG, my foreign
I done kept the money in the storage
And I don't want these bitches, I want more business
I got too big of an ego to ask for forgiveness
My boy just put all the thrax, all the packs in
Shorty she a rider, she won't tell ya where I stashed it
I link with my supplier then I put it in the plastic
I copped a model, used to only hit for Birkins
Never hit her back, even if she say it's urgent
I'm really going in deep, like a surgeon
Walk on the beat, like a priest givin' my sermon
I got your freak in the sheets on me
Butterfly G-Wagon, no doors on ya Jeep
In July, I was sellin' all these carts just to eat
Hit my line, you know what's up, I got more exotic in
I survive isolation, and it turned me to a beast
You used to listen to me, now it's fuckin' up my speech
And I tried everything, that I could to be a G
But I'm too good at being mean
How you think I'm too good at being me
Yea-aa-aa
Whoaa-aa-aa
I'm too good at being me
Yea!
Whoaa-aa-aa
I'm too good at being me
Yea-aa-aa
Whoaa-aa-aa
I'm too good at being me
Yea, Yea!
Whoaa-aa-aa
New whip, I was runnin' packs in the rain
I was in the squad car, I was gettin' brain
Ya gettin' stagnant too long, five seconds in the paint
Gotta get my main thang, she said "Mystery, you spit game"
Blood slippery, these diamonds so wet, can't make a play
At Tiffany's, but I was not gettin' that bitch a ring
Grippin' ya bitch thigh, I was whippin' on that candy paint
And he a big guy, my bro got that toolie, know I'm straight
Best get to movin' out the way
I done flew some packs across the border
Everything I do is goin' historic
Logo always AMG, my foreign
I done kept the money in the storage
And I don't want these bitches, I want more business
I got too big of an ego to ask for forgiveness
My boy just put all the thrax, all the packs in
Shorty she a rider, she won't tell ya where I stashed it
I link with my supplier then I put it in the plastic
I made some mistakes, like one or two times I fucked up
Say you love me to my face, I know you a liar
See the sparkle in the stars, in the wraith, light up
She wanna turn up, she light my night up
We wanna lay up, we was just in the club
I won't take a pay cut, I was just in the cut
I just got my babes butt and rolls truck lifted up
And if she a thot, tell her come and join the club
Stupid lil mind, you thought one was enough
Really married to the money, you can't call my bluff
And I feel like Donald Driver, I'ma catch that tug
If she really throw it back, then I'ma make her buss
Then I'ma make her buss
Whoa
Whoa
Yea, Yea, Yea, Yea

Written by:
Sammy Seppala

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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