Lyrics
Two face role at my own pace
Raising myself like a pump fake
Butterfly doors for the old ways
Handle myself in the dog days
Think of myself when it all fade
Been around town but it's too late
I tried, head up
Filling all my cuts up
Post up
Gold tucked
Feeling like I'm giving up
Ripped top
Fucked up
Feeling like I'm giving up
Gotta keep the throne
Places feel alone
How the boy been grown
Go and speak your tone
I been prone from my lows
Say she feel it in her bones
I get too much credit
Wouldn't go and let it go
Been obsessed
We can't do the feds
Roll up when I'm stressed
She the best
Finna pop till I forget
Maybe till I'm dead
Maybe till I'm dead
I hate it, but I love it
All these fuckas wanna see is numbers
You can catch these hands if you finna run up
Then it's quick clips flying in the summer
Whole city on the map, for the gutter
For the gutter
Whole city on the map for the gutter
Two face role at my own pace
Raising myself like a pump fake
Butterfly doors for the old ways
Handle myself in the dog days
Think of myself when it all fade
Been around town but it's too late
I tried, head up
Filling all my cuts up
Post up
Gold tucked
Feeling like I'm giving up
Ripped top
Fucked up
Feeling like I'm giving up
WRITERS
David james
PUBLISHERS
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
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