CORRECT LYRICS
Lyrics : Long Sleeve
(RJ always trippin', man, RJ always trippin', man)
(Funk or Die)
Arrogant and c*cky young n***a, leave the crib, bring a ten out (Facts)
Crib in the 'burbs, five minutes from a Benz lot
Plug got the crib hot, keep a dub on standby
Boss n***a runnin' with them pits like I'm Sandlot
I'm on the same sh*t, a n***a on a different wave, though
Made so much money, I couldn't even let the bank hold it
Broke hoes make me sick, now my face swollen
Yeah, but if the b*t*h fine, I put my face on it
I don't say much, I let my jewels talk
Still'll grab a bad b*t*h with these jewels off (You hear me?)
This a thousand-dollar rug, take your shoes off (n***a)
And you'll catch a thousand slugs tryna move soft
I never leave the crib unless the stick comin' (Never)
n***as hate, they sick I'm gettin' money, I'm gon' keep stuntin'
Bad b*t*h, gave her syrup d**k, she just keep c*mmin'
f**k an opp, I got a lot of chops, could shoot for three summers
You ain't even in the game, you a seat warmer
Any n***a sayin' f**k the hood, he in deep water
Scopes on the rifle, shoot from deep, I'm a heat sparker
I can sip the Tris and the Wock', f**k it, bring Morton
Ain't no addiction, I just really got a thing for it
I go to war by myself, you need a team for it
I'm a Hayes baby, Seminary, I'ma bleed for it
R.I.P. my n***a Ri, don't you say it 'less you squeezed for him
Look, Dream Rich sweatsuit, the wrong n***a to step to
Broke b*t*h, watch your mouth, you don't know who you next to
Me and Skeechy in Playground with the choppers on us
Had the drop on the way before they had the drop up on us
Had to kick the cup, hit the D and picked it up
Bougie b*t*h from the Westside, but she thick as f**k
Baby girl, look, I'm everything your man not
Truth on day shift for lobster tails and lamb chops
All you do is run your mouth, I run my damn block
A hundred P's to Killzone, he want a damn box
New Gucci long sleeve out of Somerset
Then I pull up in the long sleeve to the set
It's Philthy
(Funk or Die)
Arrogant and c*cky young n***a, leave the crib, bring a ten out (Facts)
Crib in the 'burbs, five minutes from a Benz lot
Plug got the crib hot, keep a dub on standby
Boss n***a runnin' with them pits like I'm Sandlot
I'm on the same sh*t, a n***a on a different wave, though
Made so much money, I couldn't even let the bank hold it
Broke hoes make me sick, now my face swollen
Yeah, but if the b*t*h fine, I put my face on it
I don't say much, I let my jewels talk
Still'll grab a bad b*t*h with these jewels off (You hear me?)
This a thousand-dollar rug, take your shoes off (n***a)
And you'll catch a thousand slugs tryna move soft
I never leave the crib unless the stick comin' (Never)
n***as hate, they sick I'm gettin' money, I'm gon' keep stuntin'
Bad b*t*h, gave her syrup d**k, she just keep c*mmin'
f**k an opp, I got a lot of chops, could shoot for three summers
You ain't even in the game, you a seat warmer
Any n***a sayin' f**k the hood, he in deep water
Scopes on the rifle, shoot from deep, I'm a heat sparker
I can sip the Tris and the Wock', f**k it, bring Morton
Ain't no addiction, I just really got a thing for it
I go to war by myself, you need a team for it
I'm a Hayes baby, Seminary, I'ma bleed for it
R.I.P. my n***a Ri, don't you say it 'less you squeezed for him
Look, Dream Rich sweatsuit, the wrong n***a to step to
Broke b*t*h, watch your mouth, you don't know who you next to
Me and Skeechy in Playground with the choppers on us
Had the drop on the way before they had the drop up on us
Had to kick the cup, hit the D and picked it up
Bougie b*t*h from the Westside, but she thick as f**k
Baby girl, look, I'm everything your man not
Truth on day shift for lobster tails and lamb chops
All you do is run your mouth, I run my damn block
A hundred P's to Killzone, he want a damn box
New Gucci long sleeve out of Somerset
Then I pull up in the long sleeve to the set
It's Philthy
