L A S T O N E Lyrics

Gotta blast

Always pop out with the gang on every nigga ass

Do a hit from traffic get em gone and hit the gas

I cant double back when I hit once I gotta pass

That bitch could be fine n all whole time her pussy trash

Band up every day I add a new roll to the stash

Spend it on that foreign whip with new tech on the dash

I never cared ill slide on all the opps without a mask

Thats my last one

Sike Nahh

Loving all the benji faces posted on my cash

Making too much money now to think about the past

Forgiato bitches on my whip I still might crash

Dont give me shit less than a 22 or I'ma spazz

Even though I been that nigga still dont like to brag

Every nigga with me got least 10k in they bag

Levels to this business shit n you aint in my class

Everything they popping up with new already had that

Come from out then trenches PTSD give me flashbacks

From niggas I done merked to petty bitches I done lashed at

Went from house to house with all my shit stuffed in a trash bag

Still had smoke for niggas bringing problems get you hashtagged

Re-up come in pounds 'bout every week I gotta bag that

I been fucking models off the gram that all be bad bad

The Way she call me daddy you would think I was her dad dad

Watch me count in stacks and then I'm breaking with my dad dad

"Aye lyve, is your diamonds real or fake?"

Why would you ask that

Still with all these bands I'm rocking jogging pants and back packs

Daddy told me if they try and hit you hit they ass back

Where they ass at

Bitch move

Got them youngins ready to clique up fresh out of school

Middle fingers up to all the jakes fuck all the rules

Nigga rich but still don't go nowhere without my tool

Thought he caught me slipping but it jammed now that's a smooth day

Niggas trying to hate on me but fuck it let them fools hate

Still gon run it up from my residuals that new pay

Goals was just to eat but everyday we got a new plate

Riding with that blicky tucked around me and my boo waist

Me n foe'nem clowning niggas like its April fools day

Pop out with this new drip slid the club up on a Tuesday

Bitches get no sympathy from me then hoes be two faced

Still cant trust a soul they either fake or they be too fake

Peep the meter

Pour up by da liter

Ride in that two seater

You still drive a beater

Up in million dollar homes and bet we still strap up with ninas

Know them niggas sick of me this drip be clocking fevers

That lil bitch think she important I can tell by how she geeking

How she figure that when I be cracking her leaving

If that boy think I'ma fold jus cuz he flashing then he tweaking

Put a pistol to his dome for tring to play like he a demon

Then I'm squeezing

Gotta blast

Always pop out with the gang on every nigga ass

Do a hit from traffic get em gone and hit the gas

I cant double back when I hit once I gotta pass

That bitch could be fine n all whole time her pussy trash

Band up every day I add a new roll to the stash

Spend it on that foreign whip with new tech on the dash

I never cared ill slide on all the opps without a mask

Thats my last one