lirik lagu starlito & don trip - 28th song
[verse 1: starlito]
and if i thought that i could change maybe i would
i got a lot of common sense but baby i’m hood
i sold dope before but i wouldn’t say that you should
but i’ve been broke before and it doesn’t feel good
bruh told me push
f-ck n-ggas wouldn’t have nothing on my books
hate this stupid ho i’m with but love the way she look
love the way she lie
but her cousin got me plugged in on the kush
must be crazy i then double dipping f-cking on her sister, oops!
i know i ain’t sh-t i ain’t proud of it
then called 16 had to call them right back like…
want a verse or a pound of it?
money, money, money, money, money, money, money
yea i kinda like the sound of it
got a box of bullets ready to touch you p-ssies
f-ck around and get found bl–dy
outchea thugging without a budget
they trying to figure out how i does it
independent and i’m winning
i was broke before but it’s been a minute
spending chicken independent
that’s a rollie so it isn’t ticking
time is money, can’t spend a second
second guessing no indecision
my second weapon got extensions in it
that’s thirty shots
living life as a thug n-gga, that’s word to pac
grind hard so we stir a lot
swerving, serving like we never heard of cops
prefer to handle my business personally
you want this work or not?
[verse 2: don trip]
my money dirty, my hands dirty
pistol dirty, my whip clean
b-tch with me, we riding dirty
she talk dirty but her p-ssy clean
i’m still dirty, i’m still working
i’m still serving, n-gga f-ck you mean
my pockets fat and my temper short
and my clip is longer than a limousine
and i let that b-tch come bark at you
b-tch i’m strapped like a dog catcher
the last thing you want is confrontation
cause i’m with the sh-t like your gallbladder
30 rounds in that 12 gauge
incendiary that’s overk!ll
i live life in the fast lane
either catch up or be roadk!ll
trap n-gga way before the deal
i don’t give a sh-t about a deal
b-tch i got a plug, i’m a heavyweight
with more outlets than the opry mill
such a fly guy i’m so outta h-ll
i’m so fresh to death i ought to write a will
got a box of bullets ready to touch you p-ssies
these hollow points tryna cop a feel
in the trees like a baby panda
paranoid i’ll spray the hammer
i’m in my house up all night
just staring at my surveillance cameras
i’m warning you no warning shots
i’ll pop your -ss and you’ll learn your lesson
stressed out, still counting money
cause that’s best antidepressant
if i thought that i could change maybe i would
i got a lot of common sense but b-tch i’m hood
and i’ve sold dope before i ain’t saying you should
but i’ve been broke before and that never feels good
b-tch!
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