Corrección Letra Trust Issues par G.T.

Regreso

Letra

(808 my crew)
Ayy
Keep the E in it
Chevys on switches
We smoking weed in it
Don't post me in your—
Ayo

And I'm a known stunner
Oh-so humble
Rolls-Royce is my daily runner
Low-ridin' on Sunday
Check the weather globally, we book flights for where it's sunny
She poutin' 'cause she don't think she invited
B*t*h, you coming

Keep it a hundred
Stack 'em high while I'm thumbing
Through these thousands, gettin' high
Don't lose count, don't lose track of time
Don't lose yourself in this dirty game, bro, don't lose your f**kin' mind
It'll be over your dead body if it's over money
You say we brothers, but you stealing from me
She say she love me, but she plottin' on me
Everybody up to somethin'
Trust a motherf**ker, but I'm a motherf**ker

In a Louis Vuitton velour bucket
Treat the Porsche like a two-door Cutla**
Talkin' all hundreds
Childish, flexin' with the plug money
My heart f**ked up and I can't trust nothing
N***as give out snake vibes
Fake hugs, fake fives
I learned sh*t the hard way, but soon as I realized
I cut n***as' waters off, I let b*t*hes hang dry
Hustling, got it out the mud, fly enough to hang-glide
Streets, I seen it all, taught me everything I need to know
When you young with so much money, thinkin' all your teachers slow
Everybody full of sh*t, compete when they be running game
My loyalty is priceless, don't die tryna get a name

It'll be over your dead body if it's over money
You say we brothers, but you stealing from me
She say she love me, but she plottin' on me
Everybody up to somethin'
Trust a motherf**ker, but I'm a motherf**ker
And I'm a known stunner
Oh-so humble
Rolls-Royce is my daily runner
Low-ridin' on Sunday
Check the weather globally, we book flights for where it's sunny
She poutin' 'cause she don't think she invited (Ayy, yeah, ayy)
B*t*h, you coming

Energy tell it all
These n***as hate that we ball
New Benz coupe for the fall
Fluorescent lights for the fog
Remember I used to dream it with pictures taped on my wall
Ran circles around the doubters, they hopin' a n***a fall
When it come to gettin' this paper, lil' baby, I'm in The Matrix
Red or the blue pill, lil' baby, which one you taking?
I'm from the D, but you might catch me down in Houston ridin' scrapers
Boy, this white gold, not no stainless
Wavy Navy, Jet Life Entertainment

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