Spirit Lyrics

I told ha fly high she start sipping spirits Addicted to money don't think you can cure

it I'm on the west coast smoking Kurt

A minute after 12 praying they declare At Rue Chris Steakhouse I want it seared

Ayy make sure you sear that steak nigga I don't fuck with spices I'm fucking with

ginger Yeah they my bitch

Cheat on me cheat back I ain't tender

Show up at the garden been popping since kinder Yeah that's kindergarten

What you know bout them days I had to starve for Mrs. Winters

She read that I'm hot so she caught me a kindle I think she want a kindle fire

I don't spit taste so I don't watch my tongue Remix the bowl I can't remix my lungs

I'm in my trash bag just like the beat Found a dope in the trap now I'm moving my feet

Get a kiss from your hoe know it right on the cheek

Got straight in the sheets cause I said I would greek

Can't do TV cause I know I'm a..

Yeah gone bleep that hoe out

Why the fuck do these niggas care about being judged

Straight out the park Im the black Aaron Judge Ran a 500 nigga just because

Fuck a iPhone can't tell if it bugged Can't do too much liquor getting drunk is a drug

Oh god

Man let me talk to these niggas Cowardly nigga I'm calling them Courage

I'm walking the beach they can't fuck with my verbiage

Oh god They not used to my voice they gone say that I slurred it

If I get sick in England I'm taking some birdridge

Hope I said that right

First time sober while freestyling Still finna walk this motherfucker

Shout out Nick I'ma kick the hoe out cause she wilding, stupid ass hoe

Hit me up she a star in the land of the silent She get domestic I can't do the violence

Fuck I look like nigga

Think bout my past need to facetime future You want free band then cut out on the computer

Eight years old I cracked my ribs on a scooter Wish I had the lifestyle of fucking a tutor

Every little nigga wanted that Ginuwine I pass that bread like it's magic

I'm glad he's by that motherfucker

ATM Mr. Omar shit'll get tragic

The Union Pacific my life is on track with the bengals I won 40 racks for a sack

Put some plays in the oven we need some expansion Lead on the block like I covered a scantron

I ain't buying that the bih having a tantrum Get in the pit I'm third gear with a tandem

Twelve pull up I'm outta there

Yeah fucking your bitch on the balcony yeah She gone make it clap for me yeah

Count up dead pres when I get in a abyss You know I got a little lisp

Look at that time and you cant see my wrist Like gahh damn ain't that a bitch

Like gahh damn aint that a hoe I spilt a 3.5 on the floor

Man fuck finna go get some more Call my young nigga where is the smoke

Where is the action

I want my pay better pay me like Jakeson Before I get to some shit just like an action

I want my money on the front not the back end Better pay up cause young nigga watching

Tag her two times and hit her with the right Fucking your bitch and it sound like a fight

Sound like I just gave a bitch a DV charge (chuckle)