Seven (feat. Big Woah & 6ay8ro)

Fuck it, real talk, **** it's fourth quarter, we down seven, it's four and ten and I'm going

****, I don't give a fuck, ain't no point ****, the fuck you thought this was ****

I got two outs, two strikes, three balls, we in the ninth inning, and I'm going ****

I don't give a fuck what he thought this was

Huh,

Oxycodone thirties and ain't got no prescription

Dirty dishes all in grandma kitchen

I pray to God that I don't catch me slipping

I pray to God that I don't ever snitch it

I pray to God that I don't see me spinning

I pray to God I don't see a witness

Cause if I do, I'm clapping and **** I'm bending

And if you see Big Woah

You better hide your pendant

Cause ain't no block that I ain't never spun

I'm my mother's son, I'm my daddy's child, I was running wild

I was with the forty-five and the fifty cal

I was yelling on the block, man **** get me out

I was yelling get me out of bad decisions

I was yelling get me out of grandma's kitchen

I remember playing ready set, go

Like Hot Wheels but it was hot nights with gunshots from someone's bad intentions

Of all the messy mixes

Flirty wishes from bitches dishing for whoever giving

them attention, hopefully worth a little pension, another circle of life that I'm trying to break

another mission upon my plate, another mission to get us out