OLD SOUL (feat. G Herbo)

Big glock, 4-0, yeah

Ridin' in the four-door, yeah

We were servin' low-low, yeah

Come get it for the low-low, yeah

Never cuff a ho-ho, yeah

Drive it off like oh-ho, yeah

Take it to they front door, yeah

Never talk to po-po

And I got an old soul, yeah

I'm sorry that I got an old soul, yeah

But we only totin' on .44s

And I'm never breaking the bro code

Do this shit all for my big bro

I'm sorry that I got an old soul, yeah

Like, can I get a minute? Let a **** finish, I'm too deep up in it

They hate how I'm winnin', sorry I been sinnin', they say I'm forgettin'

Mad that I can't flip it, I put up them digits, told 'em go and get it

Find 'em out here spinnin', man, they got precision, I know they ain't missin'

Tryna please my mama, stackin' up these commas, I'm just like my papa

I ain't with the drama, call me 'Don Don Dada', I move like Obama

Plus I keep a llama and I love the choppers, bitch, I'm like Mufasa

Hotter than a sauna, name a rapper hotter, I'ma say he nada

I'm in love Louis, I'm in love with Gucci, she in love with Prada

He say he gon' shoot me, bitch, my life a movie, I get that a lotta

This clip hold a hunnid anaconda, stick it in the chopper

Show you who's a shotta, bitch, pick up your partner

****, now I gotta, you can't say, "De nada"

Big glock, 4-0, yeah

Ridin' in the four-door, yeah

We were servin' low-low, yeah

Come get it for the low-low, yeah

Never cuff a ho-ho, yeah

Drive it off like oh-ho, yeah

Take it to they front door, yeah

Never talk to po-po

And I got an old soul, yeah

I'm sorry that I got an old soul, yeah

But we only totin' on .44s

And I'm never breaking the bro code

Do this shit all for my big bro

(I'm sorry that I got an old soul, yeah)

I'm from that block where they rob and they kill

Young **** starvin' and mobbin' for real

Way before rap, it was Glocks in the field

Talkin' like that 'cause he probably for real

I was frontline, still will when it get real

Couldn't be a kid, now I'm grown, got a big wheel

Slid on ****, better ask how they clique feel

Only Thursday, we done been on six drills, for real

Lit with no deal

Still in this bitch with my **** on pills

All of this ice in this bitch, I'm on chill

Can't do no rap **** shit, get no grill

Can't be on rap **** dick, I want mills

I really slept in the trap with no meals

I really slept in the trap with them steels

4-7 kick in the door, gotta peel

I'm still that ****

This like my eighth year in rap and I'm richer

I still'll bust down them packs with my ****

I just might walk in the trap with a Richard

I close my eyes, I see cap, I see Christopher

I open my eyes, I see coke, we see pistols

Fuck it, I'm gon' get some more of these digits then

Slept in the county, can't go in that bitch again (Never)

Crush it in Fanta, juice make me wanna put a four in that bitch again

Told you I'd never look back, you weren't listening

Now I'm so far up, we gotta keep distances

You **** bitches, don't tell me what bitches did

I don't do internet, I'm really in this shit

Act like you into that, nah, you ain't innocent

It ain't no witnesses

G Herbo

Big glock, 4-0, yeah

Ridin' in the four-door, yeah

We were servin' low-low, yeah

Come get it for the low-low, yeah

Never cuff a ho-ho, yeah

Drive it off like oh-ho, yeah

Take it to they front door, yeah

Never talk to po-po

And I got an old soul, yeah

I'm sorry that I got an old soul, yeah

But we only totin' on .44s

And I'm never breaking the bro code

Do this shit all for my big bro

I'm sorry that I got an old soul, yeah