Coke white cash got me feeling like Royce
Millionaire drug dealer raps
Uh, yeah, you leave me no choice
Show and tell
We don’t need no toys, y’all some pussy boys
If I say it, you can see it
We don’t need no toys, y’all some pussy boys, uh
Push
Coke white Spyder, coke white Rover
Coke white, coke white, no bakin’ soda
Park a half a million on the curb just to show ya
You can be the mayor when the whole city owe ya
We ’bout it, ’bout it like them No Limit Soldiers
This ice cream, man, kilos go for lower
The luggage is the new collab duffle by Rimowa
The leather shoulder straps makes it easier for chauffeurs
The PJ’s for six, you better hope one is not your bitch
And drug dealers never been her niche
We compare wrists by the watch complication
We compare rich by who’s more ostentatious
Diamonds lined up make a star constellation
And never talk numbers via phone conversations
I mix and match ’em, platinum and gold links
A perfect combination like when Pusha and Gold link
(
Pusha and Gold link
)
Coke white cash got me feeling like Royce
Waiting, uh, um, yeah, you leave me no choice
We don’t need no toys, y’all some pussy boys
We don’t need no toys, y’all some pussy boys, uh
Coke white cash got me feeling like Royce
Waiting, uh, um, yeah, you leave me no choice
We don’t need no toys, y’all some pussy boys
We don’t need no toys, y’all some pussy boys, uh
Yeah
Nigga turned 24, I ain’t pulled up in a Ghost
Lamborghini Centenario LP-700, you ain’t know
I done seen so many come, I done seen so many go
Pistol packing, then I started trapping, then I started rapping, then I blowed
Nigga take it on the chin, Rick Rubin let me in
Saw me sitting on the bench, Tunji told him put me in
Now I’m giving buckets out, figure word of mouth, think I’m from the South
Now I’m getting batline calls from the women that you dream about
Cold nigga, yet I’m bold-hearted
Always remember where it all started
Niggas thinkin’ it was easy money ’til we came into it and we made a market
Made selfmade millions, rap hero turned villain
RCA made a monster, new coat crocodilian
Do the song for the kids, show these little motherfuckers how we living
Real drug dealer shit, trappin’ out apartment buildings
Goddamn, what a time, what a time, what a ride
Heard it only gets better, even better, more time
Goddamn, what a time (Yeah)
Pistol packing, never slacking, bitch, killer, killer
Mr. pistol packing, never slacking, bitch, killer, killer
Mr. pistol packing, never slacking, bitch, killer, killer
Mr. pistol packing, never slacking, bitch, killer, killer
Big gun, big gun, nigga, should’ve never let us in
Shawty let me brought a friend, should’ve never brought a friend
Would I hit both teams? Hmm, that kind of all depends
‘Cause money be the motive, money be my girlfriend
I’m committed to the movement, you committed to the wave
Yeah, I know it get you paid, but why you tatted on your face?
All season, every year, we the ones they want to fear
Killing niggas like I do, killing niggas or my peers
I don’t give a fuck, I just run amuck
I reiterate, I just want the bucks
I just want the neck, I ain’t talkin’ head
Big fat bed, not a flatbed
Want the simple things, kind of stripper things
That’s on thicker things, late at night things
Real vibe thing , in the night with it
When I hit it, girl, all night with it
Goddamn, what a time
Yeah
IFFY FM
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