7.62 - YFN Lucci

Pipe that shit up TnT

Dmac on the fuckin' track

I say, uh, oh, yeah, look

In the back of the Benz, I just got it painted

The grill gold-plated, my crib still gated

But we ain’t used to have not a dollar, who gon' take it

Robberies in Grand Theft Auto, I can’t fake it

They told me don’t be trippin' about it, I can’t save it

A whole lotta money bring problems

But if a nigga play, we gon' get him murdered tomorrow

Wanna see me demonstrate?

'87 T top Cultey, put it on the interstate

Solitaire Dior bucket, they can’t even see my face

These hoes they want me to chase

I don’t keep my sneakers laced

I don’t ride straight A my key can’t go to no valet

Flew my cars out to LA

I saw so many balls in this bitch we gon' need to vacate

We been off for some decades

Look, smokin' grade A, but its cool I got low grade

Get that boy a box of perfume, he got hoe way

Look, throw that boy a 7.62, we don’t throw shade

I hope everyone don’t hit you, not partly

Look, I’ma die, in these Cuban links, I feel like rod wave

Walk through 'em, want me to call through, that’s a role

Look, what you gonna do when the money through, shorty

Don’t keep tellin' me what you gon' do for me

Okay, yeah, only talk about shit that I go through, I ain’t phony

You gon' do, what The Who, I ain’t homie whore

Lab man, he got Trac cam by the homie

I ain’t no cappin', I spent you advance on little homie

We gon' get it address we don’t land til the morning, huh

Matter fact, gon' hit 'em up while I’m performin', huh

I just got another grill, call me George Foreman

I just got another mil' and I ain’t even hungry, huh

All you niggas do it, bitch you worser than a woman, huh

Anybody get it nigga, show me my opponent, huh

I be in the newest shit, I introduce you to this

I put you on my shooter list, fuck it, let me do the bitch

I been goin' through some shit, flip out, give the Juul a hit

On the one like Chris child, we don’t sip on no Christ style

I remember ridin' 'round in that bucket

When we was in that Nissan, they didn’t give me nothin'

When I was fucked up my own bitch wouldn’t even love me

When I ain’t have my swagger right the hoe wouldn’t even fuck me

I be on some feed the fam shit, I know my momma proud of me

I know that cut real good, I just can’t put down the shit

I do it real big, but they don’t acknowledge it

Look at where I live

You know I cash that on it, a condo and a crib

I pay more than 1.5 for it

Every day I spend some shit, every thing I’m in be lit

Everytime I think about it, I be tryna spend some shit

Long live all of my niggas where we done came

Hater, I gotta talk to you in the graveyard