Rell Maverick - Disclose the Finances

Disclose the Finances

Intro:

Whoa,
You got the time,
Disclose the finances,
I got the game…

Verse:
I can look you in your eyes and tell you bluffing
All them pretty words and they ain’t adding up to nothing
All that pretty work I wasn’t bagging up to front it
All the calls were getting thirsty fuck it better have my money black book up in my mind
With the names dates and fines
Meet you where you got it same place and time
Walk up out the sesspit grease sweat and grime,
At least a thousand times
Like I keep pressing rewind
Onwards to my digits it’s early I can’t dismiss it
On my paper like I’m tryna make it through Princeton
Try to make a living my 09 agenda
Fresh out of prison with old time offenders
Got my knowledge from killers robbers and five percenters forward 2016 trapping inside of sprinters
I be on the go I won’t make it in time for dinner
I got cheddar on my mind with a fire side of spinach
Stomach on rumble
My mind on tumble
Wanna see the opps crumble
Nigga fuck being humble
I got shot what a bummer,
And ain’t slipped a day since
Stopping home invasions
Cuz my heart ain’t for play bitch...

Hook:
Whoa....
Already know,
You got the time,
You got the dough,
Disclose the finances,
Then hit my phone,
I got the game,
It’s to be sold..


Verse2:
I can come up off a vision and a fifty pack
Silent voice in my mind saying get it back
I’m on it like a greyhound when it hit the track
Gutter rat tryna play like an aristocrat
Give me what’s mine, show me my bundles
Don’t get beside yourself don’t need nothing else from you got these niggas disgruntled,
Don’t you bro me or nothing
We get too cool it’s gonna tear the whole business asunder learn most my lessons firsthand and lived to tell about it
The bullshit feel like deja vu and got a smell around it
I catch a whif i tell you now ima forever doubt it
I keep the pistol so no one can’t even tell I got it
But still put a knife on ya like the kitchen counter
My draw so quick I’ll shake the utensils out ya
Revert back when I was down bad living on couches
I hate to say I found a savior in them lil pouches
Had to get up, I was sad as a fuck
Bummy clothes, no plan, out of touch
Couldn’t tell me shit- my brain was out to lunch
Counting up feeling like I won’t amount to much...

(Hook)

Written by:

Publisher:
Lyrics © TUNECORE INC

Lyrics powered by Lyric Find