Will Smith Lyrics

Why these niggas always talking about the shit they never did

Why the fuck you always lying about them blocks you never spent

I had to toss the glockiana and now I tote the Will Smith

But I ain't acting in a movie, this shit as real as it get

My ptsd kicking in so where my strap

And I don't want these nigga 'round me cause they really ain't gone blast

Cause when some shit hit the fan these niggas running four flats

And I'm the only niggas bussing, like damn just look at that

A thousand miles a day, a week straight, you never been through it

Take a second, add it up, it get serious

Two oil changes in a week, delirious I hit the dealership

Behind the scenes I'm super road money, his bitch curious

Like why the fuck he state to state with all them damn funds

But they don't know in every state I got my damn gun

My family asking why I move around wit hella drums

Like I ain't feel that lead touch, like niggas don't want do me nothing

These bitches got my name in group chats but never know nothing

Niggas always subbing on the gram, but never blow nothing

These hams always talking big money but never show nothing

Her friends wonder why she acting weird, I took her soul from her

Took a trip to Houston with my rocket, I'm not Jalen Green

Ain't talked to this bitch since fourth grade, she still missing me

Got his first cousin wet up just cause he mentioned me

Monkey nuts on arp's, equipped with 223's

Why these niggas always talking about the shit they never did

Why the fuck you always lying about them blocks you never spent

I had to toss the glockiana and now I tote the Will Smith

But I ain't acting in a movie, this shit as real as it get

My ptsd kicking in so where my strap

And I don't want these nigga 'round me cause they really ain't gone blast

Cause when some shit hit the fan these niggas running four flats

And I'm the only niggas bussing, like damn just look at that

I got a son on the way, I ain't got time for the frivolous shit

Came a long way from kicking doors and socking on lips

I'm really out the house but guaranteed I'm still toting on stick

If you see me up in traffic, it's spot him got him, boy you better not miss

But let's get back to the simple things

I was sixteen sneaking out, getting caught on the ring

I was taught to catch a case and keep it solid, boy you better not sing

Like you can have the friendly hoe, I like my bitches mean