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letra de 07 mello - daemoney

[intro]
(twenty thousand)
(get off, june)
(brvdo, brvdo, brvdo)
ah

[verse]
i’m lookin’ at this lean, how the f-ck i fall in love with you? (how)
you can’t trust a n-gga just because he used to thug with you (uh-huh)
might pay your ass to get away from me, i don’t hug b-tches (what?)
why you ball so hard? ’cause i made it out the mud, n-gga (yeah)
i get big checks, we in mia havin’ rich s-x
all that talkin’, put him on the news, turn his ass to flex
i used to get a ninety kit a week, d-mn, i miss lex (ooh)
go through my phone, it’s all money and some missed texts
i see you tryin’ real hard to be, but i been that (stop it)
touch me and it’s a casualty, ain’t no spin back
i used to sell cases, nothin’ less than a ten-pack (swear)
got bored and went to the bank, “give me ten stacks” (come on)
percs kickin’ in, got me feelin’ where the itch at (ooh)
i used to hit the ‘hound, put the pills in my tic tacs (ooh)
the wock’ really gone, d-mn, i just want my b-tch back (d-mn)
told baby, “ride with me, all you gotta do is kick back” (come on)
slae, you in your bag? naw, n-gga, this the get-back (easy)
it’s fallin’ out my pants, yeah, i’m totin’ four-nick-nack (fap, fap)
i’m kobe game four, yeah, i got it, coach, sit back (chill out)
i f-cked him up so bad, he don’t know he need his l!ck back (hahaha)
ayy, fifty for the pants, i don’t even know the brand (what?)
takin’ pictures everywhere i go, i’m gettin’ used to fans (come on)
2017, i was in raf, never wore no vans (uh-uh)
wavy navy, we immortal, free b00b out that can (n-gga)
the way she treat a n-gga, swear to god, you’d think i’m flawless (ooh)
i asked what’s her friend think about me? said i’m bossy (okay)
i thought he was one hundred, he speak on me more than bloggers
i took a xan’, boardin’ first class in lulu joggers (i’m gone)
exclusive like they’ve never seen
ballin’ with my braids swingin’, man, they think i’m melo with the fifteen
sh-t, i’m barely 5’9″, standin’ like i’m 6’3″ (n-gga)
call me tim donaghy, ain’t no bettin’ against me
i got a deuce poured now, that’s for my n-gga compete
i thought n-ggas was my dogs, but i had to cut the leash
i’m in the mob, i’m a made guy, you got that? capeesh?
wanted to try somethin’ different, poured the trish in a peach (yeah)
st. michael everywhere, i don’t know what to wear (i don’t)
i’ll leave her where she at before i fake like i care
any room i walk in, all the bad b-tches stare (yeah)
twenty-four years of ballin’ on these n-ggas, it ain’t fair (it ain’t)
[outro]
come on
i could teach you n-ggas somethin’, man
sh-t easy, you know?
the godson, n-gga

- daemoney

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