Letras
Just my eyes out in the snow
And my mouth's glittering gold
Got a model holding my gun
Big bags for selling that skunk
I can see my kingdom from this penthouse
Got a few bitchez tryna be spouse
One lives in London, two in hometown
Tale of two cities like my name Charles
What I sell is a lifestyle
Type of stuff they only dream about
Got feds tryna do a shakedown
Yesterday I shot two clowns
They saw the Porsche and tried to chase down
Pussy ass bitchez tryna steal my crown
I have no beefs I don't need clout
Just need to spit some fucking words out
This my true story, I don't do frauds
All my girls brazilian man they too wild
These so called rappers they self-styled
I want them in the ring for a few rounds
Put Skep on the phone cause we shutting down
I shutdown my phone, cause they might stalk
Another dead body, we don't use chalk
My city too violent, they don't care about
Another whack rapper that I shot down
Another whack rapper that I shot down
Another whack rapper that I shot down
Another whack rapper that I shot down
Another whack rapper that I shot down
Another whack rapper that I shot down
Another whack rapper that I shot down
Another whack rapper that I shot down
Another dead rapper, who still have a mom
Another dead rapper, with a crying son
This is something that concerns any black man
I ain't trying to go inside of some fucking pen
I don't wanna see kids being this proud
A murder ain't something I should brag about
Every week I put somebody in a hospital
I need a vacation not this trench pals
Don't even have the answers, but I figured out
You will never have a voice when your breath runs out
You will never have a future to see your seed sprout
Can't even see a bitch without a gun on my waist
I don't wanna be selling this coke paste