Pink Notes

Remember when I couldn't save a little pinky

Now I count ten bands and pinkies

Big waps, shotguns and fifties

Four four deadly, spin that quickly

Jump out gang, jump out gang

We leave the op block lookin' smokey and litty

We make racks and we crash

Fry up the place like we work in a chippy

My young **** way too chingy

Or more time he makes the phone line ringy

Bro just stepped out blingy

Cold as fuck, too chilly

Smoke in them cookie, thinkin' deep

I need paper like Diddy

Man stepped out on violence

Man came round on fuckeree

Me, I got five for a big four five

Can't lie, they bust me

If I got back yet, I would've been mad

Swear, don't trust me

Free 9Goddy, young trap boss

Who fucks up country

Real life stuff, no pokies

My main dogs, them go wookies

Go Tinseltown with a forty

Two things at a table, that's awkward

Five oh put Wes in the jailhouse

My gosh, they're still on the man, them

Chillin', also we're oh so active

Bare mans been grabbed with cannons

My bro like Liquez got paper

Lines on, online like data

No Angolans like Craper

Slowz ain't on games like Sega

Yeah, I lay girls down like carpet

Your gal wanna taste mans parsnip

Young boys couldn't fuck with R6

Stone eye, little bro takes target

The reason they hate on we

Take a look at my life success

Can't you see I'm all in diamonds

Four racks in my mouth I spent

If you wanna work with we

Your lookin' at a next expense

'Cause you still need them bands

Don't care if you spend them on friends

67 four, I'ma ride till the end

All for my brothers, I rise up the skeng

I do this for real, I don't fuckin' pretend

Still on my block, I'm still up in the ends

Thankin' the Lord I came out of the pen

Free all my brothers that got over ten

Remember when I couldn't save a little pinky

Now I count ten bands and pinkies

Big waps, shotguns and fifties

Four four deadly, spin that quickly

Jump out gang, jump out gang

We leave the op block lookin' smokey and litty

I need paper like Diddy

Four doors and blickies

Jump out gang, jump out gang

Come round, leave everything icky

You don't wanna be a big man

Runnin' and gettin' hit, don't be silly

How many man got grabbed for waps?

The block hot like a chilly

Snoops in the mains with a big bike

Movin' like he's in Philly

Money have to make

I thank god that I'm busy

Makin' dough, I'm on one seven like a Gilet

Tryna slap a dome

Diamonds twerk like a bitch from Philly

I've seen your racks

I can spend that and make that back

New year, new plug

That means no more chillin' with cats

It's been six years

I can finally say, welcome home trap

Back then, man did a big face

When we turned up and got you wacked

These days man glide with the stem

Back then, man did it with Macs

Should be sittin' down for a while

So I know I ain't chillin' with racks

They want me on the wing all summer

There's no way I'm lookin' through flats

Bro put twenty on his wrist

It's so bait, he's deliverin' packs

Remember when I couldn't save a little pinky

Now I count ten bands and pinkies

Big waps, shotguns and fifties

Four four deadly, spin that quickly

Jump out gang, jump out gang

We leave the op block lookin' smokey and litty

We make racks and we crash

Fry up the place like we work in a chippy

My young **** way too chingy

Or more time he makes the phone line ringy

Bro just stepped out blingy

Cold as fuck, too chilly

Smoke in them cookie, thinkin' deep

I need paper like Diddy

Money...