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letra de plead guilty - bay swag

[intro]
oh my god
ay, ay
huh

[chorus]
seen the tears up in my eyes on that day he plead (plead)
i gotta thank god, they put him in state, they ain’t put ’em in the feds (feds)
one call to the guys, they know the vibes, put ’em to bed (bed)
two shots to his head (head)
they can’t call him ’cause he dead (oh my god)
slipping on these meds, that sh-t hurt me what he said (what he said)
diamonds on my neck (what?), rolley with baguettes
esco died, i popped a bean (bean)
seen him in my drеams (dreams)
ain’t too many n-ggas like us, we comе outta queens (oh my god)
[verse 1]
see a fifty in my pocket, n-gga, i’m p-ssy (n-gga, i’m p-ssy)
three more months, i’m gon’ need 50k to book me
i ain’t a rookie
rather give my momma money than throw it in tootsies
i ain’t a rookie
i’m on the phone with lil’ mama i told her, “need some of that cookie”
she said, “book me”
ride up on this wood
swear she know my vibes, come and suck it good
leaving by my side, sh-t, i wish she would, huh
i ain’t with them lies, but she do it good, huh (yeah)
100k on my neck, sh-t, that’s just on one piece, huh
i just been investing businesses, got three
had to cut off all my peasants (oh my god), millions all i see
had a talk with trav, he said, “bay, just lock in, you gon’ see”

[chorus]
seen the tears up in my eyes on that day he plead (plead)
i gotta thank god, they put him in state, they ain’t put ’em in the feds (feds)
one call to the guys, they know the vibes, put ’em to bed (bed)
two shots to his head (head)
they can’t call him ’cause he dead (oh my god)
slipping on these meds, that sh-t hurt me what he said (what he said)
diamonds on my neck (what?), rolley with baguettes
esco died, i popped a bean (bean)
seen him in my dreams (dreams)
ain’t too many n-ggas like us, we come outta queens (oh my god)
[verse 2]
track hawk be the jeep (the jeep)
i can tell you why they mad, why they hate on me (why they hate on me)
i been lowkey stackin’, mama get them z’s (mama get them z’s)
you know you good, i’ma put you in that bentley b (let’s go)
marni all on me (oh my god)
gotta give my props to meek (let’s go)
told me stay up out them streets, come with me up on this beach (what?)
i be spitting all this pain, i ain’t just rapping on a beat (ay, ay)
crib so god d-mn big if you want, we could play hide and seek (oh my god)
that sh-t like 800 (800), that sh-t like 800, ain’t nothing
gotta make sure pops straight, i ain’t clubbing
started on something, turned nothing to something (ay, ay)
n-ggas better give me my props (props)
everything was good ’till pops got locked
had to get my own d-mn guap (free ’em)

- bay swag

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