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Property pickin', properly drippin’, I'm Poverty driven, I'm not gonna listen Feds want me locked in a prison Breathin’ but not really livin' 'Cause I started with rocks in the kitchen Now Fred's in a foreign, you're not gonna miss him Look, what you tellin' me, bro? This ain't no loud, what you sellin' me, though? Last two weeks, ten in a row None of them sleep here, I’m sendin’ 'em home They get shot up for gettin’ involved And get on the phone like I never did know Most of these rap boys never did road So look at me wrong, man, I'm gettin' 'em poled Yeah, I just bought a yard, I went property pickin’ You know me, I'm properly drippin' I'm drivin' the Bentley but poverty driven Mummy said that I'm not gonna listen All of them feds want me locked in a prison Where you're breathing but not really living All 'cause I started with rocks in the kitchen Now Fred's in a foreign, you're not gonna miss him I'm about, the top of it's missin' Smokin' loud and I'm with the don's missus Letras de cancionesHigh in the clouds but she's droppin' her knickers This is 'cause I'm a popular figure Yeah, I'll run up in Fendi, no robbery All the sexy ones tell me they're on to me Twenty racks in my pocket, I'm out on a shoppin' spree I beg you, don't bother me Is that the police tryna follow me? My nigga, let's switch up the route My girl just wants me to give her the truth But if I do that, we'll be finished for true Stomp the boy in my Jordans, 4 in the morning When I should've been touring Yo, I got more trainers than sense And and I got more paigons, no friends What you tellin' me, bro? This ain't no loud, what you sellin' me, though? Last two weeks, ten in a row None of them sleep here, I'm sendin' 'em home They get shot up for gettin' involved And get on the phone like I never did know Most of these rap boys never did road So look at me wrong, man, I'm gettin' 'em poled Yeah, I just bought a yard, I went property pickin' You know me, I'm properly drippin' I'm drivin' the Bentley but poverty driven Mummy said that I'm not gonna listen All of them feds want me locked in a prison Where you're breathing but not really living All 'cause I started with rocks in the kitchen Now Fred's in a foreign, you're not gonna miss him Send my youngins in cabs with the hammers Put it down with the slags and the badders Talkin' smoke, that ain't nothin' to me I flooded the piece, spent a hundred with ease Look, my youngins want guns and they're comin' to me But if you ask mum, I'm the son of her dreams Fendi bag on her tea, covered in fleas for a hundred a piece Listen, I'm known for blowin' them racks Facts, but I used to be homeless and that If that's your girl, go and hold on to that If I roll in and snatch, she ain't phonin' you back, no My niggas are frozen in black Little V Dotz came holdin' the wrap His shotty is bookey, not just a slap So I told him don't bring it no closer than that Yeah, I just bought a yard, I went property pickin' You know me, I'm properly drippin' I'm drivin' the Bentley but poverty driven Mummy said that I'm not gonna listen All of them feds want me locked in a prison Where you're breathing but not really living All 'cause I started with rocks in the kitchen Now Fred's in a foreign, you're not gonna miss him Yeah, I just bought a yard, I went property pickin' You know me, I'm properly drippin' I'm drivin' the Bentley but poverty driven Mummy said that I'm not gonna listen All of them feds want me locked in a prison Where you're breathing but not really living All 'cause I started with rocks in the kitchen Now Fred's in a foreign, you're not gonna miss him From Letras Mania