777 Lyrics
Greenlight
I forgot what I was doing, I start listening to that bitch again
Yeah, all facts, lil’ n****
You know what the fuck going on
Real rich n*****, man, you know?
Up a roll on a rat bitch, better shut her up
Cheap bitch, tryna fuck on me, ain’t nuttin’ up
In a truck, staring at the stars while the sun come up
You can never be my right hand, that’s my double cup
I’m sippin’ drank, diamonds clear like Grey Goose
I did like the bitch, then she said she fucked Tay, too
Tell that bitch pull up with the BJ like Tay do
Real millionaires, it ain’t too much we can’t do
I know n**** use the Greyhound, make the grey move
Catch a opp, tighten his ass up like his braces loose
Rich bitch with me, she got pointers in her chain, too
This a mob meeting, only bosses at the table
Yeah, lately I’ve been bringing racks out just to fuck ’em up
I’m only puttin’ chains on my neck, that’s a hundred plus
Bitches calling me they best friend for a cover up
Took a bitch shopping, fuck the tag, I just rung it up
Every bitch wanna go down since I’m going up
Last night I fucked seven hoes, so I throw it up
Spent three hundred on a plain Jane, I guess I’m growing up
Got a pretty bitch rolling weed while I’m pouring up
I just counted up two million cash, I don’t mean to brag
Now everybody wanna ask, they used to put me last
I can’t hit the jeweler with no money, put it on my tab
On her period, she askin’ me to fuck her in her ass
She keep askin’ for my sign, baby, I’m a Sag’
Half man, half horse, but I drive a Lam’
Every car got Fs, I’m never out of gas
You wanna be in Lamborghini Boyz, you gotta holla at WHAM
Hit a n**** block and spin-spin, I’m ’bout to holla at Dan
Hatin’ n**** playing all my songs, how you not a fan?
When I was younger all my n***** was on telegram
I was sittin’ in the trap, tryna sell a gram
Now the load way too big to drive, we gotta mail ’em in
Yeah, we got the best ticket around, go and tell a friend
Crazy that we rich while we grown, we was rich kids
This ain’t Red Lobster, but I only came for the bread
The dope ran that shit, but the fetty turned it to a ten
My hat and my shirt and my belt, man, that’s three grand
Security ain’t check in my bag, so I snuck it in
All facts, reach for a chain, been and shot a man
Today I’m going Christian to the floor, I’m a godly man
My youngins getting better at slidin’, they at hockey practice
Veeze, you the worst, you a devil, Prada pants
Fuck, she start telling me her problems, got up outta there
Unc’ told me if I need a million, I could borrow it
I got all this money, different colors like Sour Patch
These hoes just like hitmans, they got body counts
Yeah, I rap, but down in Columbus I got oxycontin
Lame n****, you would sell your soul for me to shout you out
My cup filled with all mud, it’s a soccer mom
Lame ass lil’ n****, what the fuck going on?