Текст пісні
I got the face but never act
100 Blades all in my back
100 Blunts a couple straps (Yea)
Lately I just can't Relax
Cant no fuck boy get no slack
Matter fact you getting taxed (Yea)
Running from the fuck shit like a track star
New whip, new crib, bitch I gotta a back yard
Y'all ain't fucking up this energy
Old hoes turned to enemies y'all ain't shit to me
Tell your baby momma to stop wit the text
Never gonna stop with the flex
Finally got my family up out of the jects
Been writing all these records in Housing now we blessed ya
Been dead but I never be a dead beat
Girl give me where your Chest and your Head meet
Don't stain the designer belt and upset me
I could really fuck up your life if you let me
Movie shit man I'm feeling like I'm tom cruise
Sweet ain't sweet without the sour that we go through
Vanilla skies surprise life just a bunch of lies
Things a feel a lil different when you realize
I got the face but never act
100 Blades all in my back
100 Blunts a couple straps (Yea)
Lately I just can't relax
Can't no fuck boy get no slack
Matter fact you getting taxed (Yea)