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letra de flyin up the mile - big quis

[intro: lil blade]
(my n-gga lee, i think we got another one)
yeah
yeah

[verse 1: lil blade]
my first deal was for ‘bows, still ain’t got one for rap
yeah, i serve outta mansions, i ain’t posted in the trap
play with me and get put down, you ain’t ‘posed to know i’m strapped
if you see me with a b-tch, then ain’t no question that i cracked
you know me, it’s lbi, mister f-ck a n-gga ho
mister middle of the summer, walk outside and make it snow
i ain’t breakin’ sh-t down, come and cop the whole ‘bow
these n-ggas be like, “oh, no,” they hoes be like, “there he go”
b-tch, i got on fear of gods, why these n-ggas scared of me?
called bro to clear it out, now these n-ggas scared of quis
you wanna see a million dollars? let me show you where i live
i was breakin’ b-tches’ hearts before i met my n-gga kid, yeah

[verse 2: big quis]
range rovers, 580s, b-tch, we summer-ready
i was ridin’ foreigns in ’04 when we was sellin’ reggies
paid a b-tch to f-ck, then stole it out her purse, you know i’m petty
i looked up to them stl n-ggas, i don’t know no nelly
just got another chain, it ain’t put a dent inside my stash
she think she doin’ somethin’, who let that ugly b-tch go get an ass?
i ain’t stingy, if i got it, then the whole crew got a bag
i love donald trump, made a quarter mil’ sittin’ on my ass
don’t you wear that kit outside if it don’t cost a hundred-plus
i ain’t tryna hear ’bout none of them n-ggas, they can’t f-ck with us
his baby mama told me he was broke, he livin’ month to month
made my side b-tch give me her taxes, went and flood the buffs
[verse 3: g.t.]
hoppin’ out the maybach, gotta tip the driver (yeah, yeah, yeah)
young n-gga, organized crime, somethin’ like the wire
it’s a twin turbo on this b-tch, it d-mn near lift the tires
young n-gga, i come from the east, money long as meyer (ayy, ayy)
linked up with quis, we got so many hoes, we should retire (real)
they ain’t really gettin’ cheese for real, n-ggas f-ckin’ liars
and really i don’t be around n-ggas ’cause i don’t like ’em (real)
hop out with icewood junior and we all icy (bling, blaow)
block a b-tch, break her heart like i’m shawn michael (real)
this house, we only see blocks, in here with all rifles (bah, bah)
n-ggas don’t ever do sh-t, they just love typin’ (yeah)
i just rap about what i live, i ain’t gotta write it (n-gga)

[outro: g.t.]
(what up, loudboy?)
yeah
that’s one of them ones

- big quis

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