Music Video

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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
David Brewster
David Brewster
Rap
Christopher Francis Ries
Christopher Francis Ries
Rap
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
David Brewster
David Brewster
Songwriter
Christopher Francis Ries
Christopher Francis Ries
Songwriter

Lyrics

He back on it, a 100 packs of weed back on him (100 pack)
Black F&N match the Nike ski mask on him (All black)
Trapped all night, Givenchy big G back on him (Big G)
Drop a album, couple videos, then we back touring (Gone)
Bust her ass a couple times, shit, then she back snoring
Bagging up the Fu-Gee-La my **** we had Lauren (La la)
If it's no guns allowed I promise we not goin' (Not goin')
Album 'bout to drop again that **** East got motion
Rarely seen the block dry my ****, we had lotion
Throw a party for the smokers, cookout while they load it
****'ll kill you for likes, upload the picture and post it
I'm the one they really can feel from Lennox to Nostrand
See the chauffeur got me at brunch, Henny mimosas
No boasting, back in the day, penny my loafers
The culture how they get paid, they really be vultures (Vultures)
Pay attention who you really get close to
I'm not gon' hold you
Switchblade, carry it, the light is on the Glock
Felt like Christmas every time my package hit the block (Every time)
Naughty by Nature, I been down with O.P.P
Told my shorty if she leave, them **** won't be me (Won't)
A wizard in the kitchen, fiends screaming "go DC"
Count my money over and over, got OCD (Over and over)
Got my own style, sometimes I feel like ODB (Woo, God bless)
All these whips and chains acting like we won't be free
East
Straight outta Nicetown ****, no diploma
Fresh out the trap house, kush and coke aroma
Selling butter pecan and I got the weed strand
Send another package out every time the P's land
Cutthroat, hot head, leave him on the doc bed
And we spinning the block yeah if we hear he not there
Fucking with a demon and he screaming while the cops there
Lock in his sock while he swinging from the top tier
We who the cops fear
Who the bitches love and who the opps fear
Head shots, wipe his clock clear
Share bullets like Wi-Fi shit
Electric slide, die by chair
Choppers travel in pairs
Leave you faggots and the maggots, let it flare
Yeah I know where that bitch go for her hair
I'm a North Philly **** down at 145th with my crip
Still banging on these dips just for Nip
2 40s on the hip, lil bitch
Tell shorty watch her lips before she sucking on the Glock instead of a dick
Fuck a Yorkie, I'm a Pit
Wavy baby, never slipping on the drip
80's baby, Dave you got me on my shit
Homicide every time we slide
Gotta keep on the blick
Gotta keep switching up, **** love to copy all my shit
I'm the last of the realest ever, the last of the breed
Seen 'em all come and go, not many last in the league
Let it breathe
Written by: Christopher Francis Ries, David Brewster
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