Letras
I'm sad, I can't talk about it
It makes me emotional
Like, I'm gonna actually cry
My bro can't retire, man
The streets needs my guy, man
He can't be retirin', it's way too early for that
Move cocoa like the butter on my skin (ayy)
Get bread and we butter up the ting (let's go)
Starin' in the rear view, dust up in the wind
I'm in my own lane, dustin' to my win (let's go, let's go)
My eyes thin, Gushers in my Slim
But, ayy, we still cut it up and cling
Move cocoa like the butter on my skin (ayy)
Move cocoa like the butter on my skin
My Spanish chick be like, "Papi, don't go"
But I married to the game, bitch, I'm Mafioso, uh
Remember when I had to set it in Prada garms
Big 4-Fizzy, lettin' off car alarms
I'm on my own, I can't be near them snitch boys
I was hidin' bare bricks in them Bear Brick toys
A little weed to get my day started
I only made it out of the hood 'cause I was bravehearted
I found out she was a hoe, I was gonna wife that
I had to go on Insta and take my likes back
They played me on the radio when I was whippin' bricks
Them man were suckin' pussy, I was hittin' licks (that's them man)
You know we let them things pop
I told a opp send his location, I heard a pin drop
Yeah, they grind but I hustle more
All these shooters 'round me
What the fuck I need muscles for?
It's Nines
Move cocoa like the butter on my skin (ayy)
Get bread and we butter up the ting (let's go)
Starin' in the rear view, dust up in the wind
I'm in my own lane, dustin' to my win (let's go, let's go)
My eyes thin, Gushers in my Slim
But, ayy, we still cut it up and cling
Move cocoa like the butter on my skin (ayy)
Move cocoa like the butter on my skin
Yo, uh, yo
Eight gear one-seventy, that cars off
This .32 pistol make your heart stop
Them niggas ain't bangin', take that mask off (take it off)
Me and Nines we should've been in Narcos
Pushin' class A not no Benz (no)
Still coppin' skengs but my minds on them M's (millions)
These niggas wanna go to war that's usual
But they got no money for no funeral (ha-ha-ha)
I've been in five different jails
Got one foot out, I'm in two different worlds (I am)
Industry and the streets
Just to be at peace, akh, I gotta bring the piece (Wallahi)
This pretty ting, I wanna know the name on her
No game on her, I just put my chain on her (try it on)
Get the diamond tester out, I come ready
Glad Jazz is home, nigga used to be my celly (Mashallah)
Move cocoa like the butter on my skin (ayy)
Get bread and we butter up the ting (let's go)
Starin' in the rear view, dust up in the wind
I'm in my own lane, dustin' to my win (let's go, let's go)
My eyes thin, Gushers in my Slim
But, ayy, we still cut it up and cling
Move cocoa like the butter on my skin (ayy)
Move cocoa like the butter on my skin