CORRECT LYRICS
Lyrics : Fleur de Lis (Für Elise)
808 Mafia
It was me, Ty and Freddie G, plottin' on the green
Now I'm rich, I'm rich as a b*t*h, tourin' overseas
It was me, Meek Mill in SB, plottin' on the dream
Now we livin', visions vivid, I been gettin' to the cream
Uh, she ride me like an SRT, but her friend ride me like a Wraith
I made the bank close, when I take my savings out, they think I'm robbin' the bank
f**k out my face, f**k n***a, you fake
(Oh, you play with guns?) That sh*t cliché
Y’all know I keep dracos right next to my safe
Keep it, dedicate money, and family safe
Uh, look at me, with this music sh*t, I'm a God
Huh, Für Elise, for this sh*t, I'm thankin' God
He made me a beast, put my talents in my bank account, on creatine
And put my neck, my wrist, accessories on Mr. Freeze
Uh, Your sh*t antifreeze, huh
Got your b*t*h givin' me head, that telepathy jaw
I spent forty on Chanel and Louis V, ain't even try to do it
Silly me, you can't relate, but that's your fault
When we f**k she scream, damn, they callin' me "God"
But that isn't me, I'm not God, I need God
You can see that easily
When I mix Percs with the lean
It's when I let the Devil speak
I'm not supposed to let him speak
It was me, Ty and Freddie G, plottin' on the green
Now I'm rich, I'm rich as a b*t*h, tourin' overseas
It was me, Meek Mill in SB, plottin' on the dream
Now we livin', visions vivid, I been gettin' to the cream
Uh, she ride me like an SRT, but her friend ride me like a Wraith
I made the bank close, when I take my savings out, they think I'm robbin' the bank
f**k out my face, f**k n***a, you fake
(Oh, you play with guns?) That sh*t cliché
Y’all know I keep dracos right next to my safe
Keep it, dedicate money, and family safe
Uh, look at me, with this music sh*t, I'm a God
Huh, Für Elise, for this sh*t, I'm thankin' God
He made me a beast, put my talents in my bank account, on creatine
And put my neck, my wrist, accessories on Mr. Freeze
Uh, Your sh*t antifreeze, huh
Got your b*t*h givin' me head, that telepathy jaw
I spent forty on Chanel and Louis V, ain't even try to do it
Silly me, you can't relate, but that's your fault
When we f**k she scream, damn, they callin' me "God"
But that isn't me, I'm not God, I need God
You can see that easily
When I mix Percs with the lean
It's when I let the Devil speak
I'm not supposed to let him speak
