Lyrics
Yeah
Sixteen summers and I ain't miss a beat (never)
Brick of each had me telling bitches, "Pick a beach" (yes)
Try any little shit on me
I'll have a demon at your door but this ain't trick-or-treat
It's close shaves, nigga, man, I'm meant to be dead
How you screaming free the nigga? You ain't sent him no bread (how?)
They gave my nigga life, man, that sentence was dread
In BXB, smoking Cali mixed with Benson & Hedge
I went from walking in Hatton with grands in duffles
To Rolex dinners, that's clams and mussels
I'm tryna break it down so they understand the hustle
If we're talking 'bout models, yeah, I've blammed a couple (I did)
Sipping Don Londres on the back of the jet
Don't compare me to these rappers that just cap on the net
They keep asking me, "What's happening next?"
I just might leather strap the Patek for the lack of respect
Stainless Rollie, got like ten of those
I might hit the mall and spend like ten on clothes
Risk it all for my bruddas, yeah, my gennas know
But is a enemy a enemy if there ain't a M involved?
And if they need reminding
I went from bining to fine dining, it's all timing
I'm grinding, this paper ain't declining
I did it by myself, probably why they never talk about signing
Learned more from my L's than my wins
Now they want me in a cell for my sins
'Cause this dope that I sell through a SIM
That they gotta melt on a tin
Nigga ratted on the G's, that was selfish of him
And let me tell you why we're not the same (how?)
All them nights I put the pot to flame
Heating up that work so they can stop the pain (yeah)
I put my money into shit, I never copped a chain
Opened BXB, legal trapping, think I clocked the game
Them nights weren't wasted
On the M bracket, I can taste it
Watches with the octagon faces
The lifestyle, could never say it's basic (never)
They'd probably say we was capping if we didn't tape it
And everything I see 'em doing is just dated (yeah)