Album: Sincerely, Kentrell (2021)
Charted: 28
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  • (I need to talk to Mike Laury
    Yeah, you got Mike Laury)
    (Dubba-AA flex)
    "Winning lottery numbers coming up"

    I can't quit, at all, at all
    I ain't hurt (I ain't hurt, nigga), at all, at all
    On my soul, at all, at all
    Stay the same as my pain grow
    Ridin' 'round with my bros (this is the sound)

    Ridin' in the Maybach, let's go
    Ten M's up, nigga, let's go
    He a dreadhead, mm-hmm
    My bro leave him dead in front that store
    On three different drugs tryna take away my pain
    But it's still gon' flow
    Try my hardest to put a smile on top my mans
    But he still can't cope

    On the highway, out the window do some'
    Get in my way, bam-bam, shoot some'
    He a head hunter, rude bwoy trust nothin'
    She got a nice round bum, but can't pay her nothin'
    Do a hit real sick, it be cold the whole summer
    I can't figure how she comin', I'ma give her to my mama
    In a minute I'ma cut a nigga, knowin' I'm a slime him
    Everything go bad, you can trust him, still time him
    Niggas steady rappin', we be shootin' at the bitch
    Sound of the stick goin', "Boom" when it hit
    Sound of the smoke, real loud when it's lit
    Still let it off with a crowd in the midst
    Black car, matte stick, I'm it
    Don't pick die, if you try one trick
    Right gang, but she say, "Wrong bitch"
    Young rich nigga, he done took the wrong fix
    Overdose, can't shake back, no
    Harbor freight, get the jack from the sto'
    White trace, that's a whole lotta snow
    Ridin', bumpin' Kirk with a .30 and a pole
    With a young bitch, she don't want me, it's vivid
    But I don't need her hand when I'm runnin' up Benji's
    Real deal business, this real blood business
    Really spill those, dead bodies in the trenches
    Real slime, they was my partner for a minute
    Contract from my brother when them hollows got up in it
    Dodgin' bullets in the car when them shottas sent them in it
    All praise to Allah, one was dead, less than sixty
    We gon' burn them forensincs, leave 'em dead if he missed it
    Should have aimed when you shot it, don't fuck with my bodies
    I'ma foreign my engine, take luxury narcotics
    While they cookin' I'm watchin', die protectin' that body
    Through the house the aroma, it cover the closet
    I don't say that ain't it, but I still want cop it
    I'ma flood out this bitch to whoever come cop it
    Police ran in this bitch, no one say nothin' about it
    I ain't got nothin' I wanna do better with my life
    But take narcotics with my life
    Collect these bodies, with your life, send it to the Most Highest
    Nigga showin' off, got it took when he got it
    Nigga ran off, tell me what you do 'bout it?
    You don't know off the dome shit, can't write
    With the Glock when you see the kid, on sight
    Bullets start playin' 'round with 'tention, got focused
    Got another pack rolled up, he gon' smoke it
    Ten grand, twenty grand, all night scope it
    We're up all day high, we're up all day slow

    I can't quit, at all, at all
    I ain't hurt, at all, at all
    On my soul, at all, at all
    Stay the same as my pain grow
    Ridin' 'round with my bros

    Ridin' in the Maybach, let's go
    Ten M's up, nigga, let's go
    He a dreadhead, mm-hmm
    My bro leave him dead in front that store
    On three different drugs tryna take away my pain
    But it's still gon' flow
    Try my hardest to put a smile on top my mans
    But he still can't cope

    Heard him steady talkin' 'bout, "Top, just let me shoot him", no
    I can't teach a nigga shit, I can make it out him
    I ain't need no tutor, been advanced for the road
    Doped up, two or three tools doin' shows
    Forty on my teeth and two hunnid for my pole
    Three hunnid for my car, extra sneaze for the nose
    I be runnin' to the money soon as it reach my phone
    I ain't got nothin' I wanna do better with my life
    But take narcotics with my life
    Collect these bodies, with your life, send it to the Most Highest
    Nigga showin' off, got it took when he got it
    Nigga ran off, tell me what you do 'bout it?
    You don't know off the dome shit, can't write
    With the Glock when you see the kid, on sight

    I can't quit (quit), at all, at all
    I ain't hurt (I ain't hurt), at all, at all
    On my soul, at all, at all
    Stay the same as my pain grow
    Ridin' 'round with my bros

    Ridin' in the Maybach, let's go
    Ten M's up, nigga, let's go
    He a dreadhead, mm-hmm
    My bro leave him dead in front that store (this is the sound)
    On three different drugs tryna take away my pain
    But it's still gon' flow
    Try my hardest to put a smile on top my mans
    But he still can't cope Writer/s: Aaron Lockhart, Kentrell Gaulden, Michael Laury, William Golden Mosley Jr.
    Publisher: Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Songtrust Ave, Ultra Tunes
    Lyrics licensed and provided by LyricFind

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