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Grilla (Grilla, grilla, grilla)

Yeah
Yeah, it's fire like a [?]
Yeah, we never slack 'cause a n***a ain't stay fond
State of emergency, but please just stay calm
n***a, what up? (What up, what up?)
Yeah n***a, what up?
Yeah n***a, what up?

Speakers love artists more
Than the cities that they come from
When I make it, I'ma bring the whole crew with me
Yeah n***a, f**k a plus one
Other people, just rest in peace (Peace)
But every artist, rest in production
I'd rather have genuine fans
'Cause I know it's better than faker progression
I know that I could make it
Only if I had exposure
I feel all the weight, I feel all the pain
I feel all the tears on my shoulders
What would my self fulfill like a soldier?
Prayed to God that he like, “n***a, I told ya”
I talk about God more than I talk to him
If life's a game, why'd you walk though it?
And they see a C-zone even wanna be themselves
That's when rappers start to mumble up
When it's time to break bread wit' the homies
That-that's when n***as really just start to crumble up
Uh, Slim, call me Smoke
They make the beef and you know me
I just make the lyrics, writin' them braille
Hope for y'all to finna release it all for free
And pray for y'all to hear it (Pray for y'all to hear it)
Uh, and they don't take nothin' to show love
n***as ask for daps, co-signs, and bro hugs
When it's my turn, that's when n***as don't show up
Everyone's on sh*tboy [?] flow
They start to jump wit' that six, and that's truth
And they want me to stop rappin', people have to kill me [?]
I save my last ones in the booth, come!

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