CORRECT LYRICS

Lyrics : Michael Myers

Tired
Tired of all these n***as talkin' hard, but ain't slidin'
I ain't hard to find, lookin' for me, I be slammin'
I can really pull up space coupe, I be glidin'
You can damn near tell a n***a fu' from his diamonds
She gon' do anything I tell her, call me Simon
If I let off shots, that n***a Zay, he right behind me
Gorilla on my back, but got the heart of a lion
Think I'm a nice guy, but I'm really Michael Myers

Think I'm a nice guy, but, b*t*h, I'm Michael, though
Shoot this b*t*h with one hand, but this a rifle, though
Ain't go argue with you, get your n***a, ain't gon' fight a ho
Give it to her rough, I got her cryin', but she like it, though
Every time that pack touch down, I get excited, bro
I told lil' baby she can keep her 'Gram, but she can't like a post
Put my strappy down, put up my dukes and get my Tyson on
Yeah, where I grew up, it was rough, but I'm a diamond, though
Boy, don't make me grab that chop and make it sing 'til it's the highest note
That deal you got ain't even worth a mil', the f**k you sign it for?
I just put a scopey on my ah, I'm tryna find you, bro
Yeah, still gamble with my life, I throw my dice and roll
Them n***as tried to snake me in my sleep, but I was wide awoke
Bet when I up that gleeky with that flash, I bet he strike a pose
Pull a skit up over here, wouldn't even try it, bro
And I got this sh*t up on my sleeve, ain't gotta write a song, n***a
Tired
Tired of all these n***as talkin' hard, but ain't slidin'
I ain't hard to find, lookin' for me, I be slammin'
I can really pull up space coupe, I be glidin'
You can damn near tell a n***a fu' from his diamonds
She gon' do anything I tell her, call me Simon
If I let off shots, that n***a Zay, he right behind me
Gorilla on my back, but got the heart of a lion
Think I'm a nice guy, but I'm really Michael Myers

Look, look, Forgiato rims, it's twenty-sixes on my Jeep
And all that sucker sh*t you n***as on, I done peeped
And I'll never pay, b*t*h, I'm a shooter, I can sweep
Nobody on they street, f**k it, let me out on feet
Ayy, look, it's consequences for that sh*t that you be speakin' on
These rappin' n***as makin' videos on streets we creepin' on
I'm f**kin' n***as' b*t*hes, bustin' nuts on sheets you sleepin' on
I could never leave it 'lone, it's old, but I won't leave it 'lone
Fully on this Glock, when I bust shots, this b*t*h go ha-ta-ta
Speakin' on my bro, but ain't say sh*t when we killed ah-ah-ah
Thirty-three a semi, I'm like f**k it, I'ma rock the stock
Before this rappin' sh*t, b*t*h, I was known for really poppin' shots
Cartier or Rolex, baby, I like nice things
I could really Bowflex, a hundred in some light jeans
I could tell I'm different from your n***a 'cause his Sprite clean
She like, "You really thinkin' you that n***a," b*t*h, I might be, ayy
Tired
Tired of all these n***as talkin' hard, but ain't slidin'
I ain't hard to find, lookin' for me, I be slammin'
I can really pull up space coupe, I be glidin'
You can damn near tell a n***a fu' from his diamonds
She gon' do anything I tell her, call me Simon
If I let off shots, that n***a Zay, he right behind me
Gorilla on my back, but got the heart of a lion
Think I'm a nice guy, but I'm really Michael Myers