$ Traditions Lyrics

Please don't ask what the AP cost

Just know this bitch got frost

Bitch got salad gon get tossed

She want green use her jaws

Bitch I'm Bitch I'm a boss

Setting the plays I feel like I am Randy moss

Cheese and the chicken inside of my hand

Swear to god I gotta keep the sauce

It could be Cajun or Buffalo I'm feelin spicy I might just go touch yo hoe

Huh way that I do it's a art keep me a blade and blicky like kirito

All my niggas dripped in Off-White Imperial

Early morning girly eat me like cereal

Hit his whip and he gave Jesus the steering wheel

Choppa clap at couple niggas like key & peele

Keep a blue keep it hunnid I keep it real

Pockets acting in they own they got free of will

Out the way so you know imma keep it chill

Green on green in the vacuum seal

Wood on wood gon punch for lunch

Ian really worried bout niggas not deal

Pull up wit the chop might hit em in his guts

Niggas talk craze like all the time

Smoke at his head might hit em in his lungs

Want that stuff with the best of the gang no he must not be the smartest of the bunch

Momma said we gon be okay momma said do you trust me

So I gotta give my momma K's for the days that she loved me

Gotta drip her in Amiri gotta drip her out in all the damn luxury

Talking like you do not fear me swear to god this little shit getting ugly

Fuck a 9 to 5 might be a way to survive I am not living those lies

Hunnid on Hunnid should be no surprise I'm tryna go and revise

Niggas snakey I can see it inside of they eyes

And from the way that they switching the sides

Hunnid hunnid know I stay with the realest of guys they do not need a disguise

Gunna Wunna way I got me a spending addiction

Know you a bitch and that's just my depiction

Say that you real and I say that's it's fiction

Niggas talk craze and it's leavin me itchin

I might leave em missin

Money call my name I swear imma listen

So why the suspicions

Member them days when I couldn't cook inside the kitchen

And now I'm really fucking living

Im tryna turn a hunnid to a hunnid fucking million these niggas talking like they wit it

I'm tired of the money countin traditions

Tired of niggas that really be whining and bitching

Niggas be laggin they motion glitching

I count lamb I got more than chicken

Not Joji but this chop gon sing might just aim at yo mental district

One of one I'm too official yall niggas pape on chicken little

Green on green it's too essential

Member them days had to pay extension

Money call my phone every time I miss it

Pape on my phone everytime I mention

Bet everytime that I'm gon answer

Aduhski

Member them days when I ain't have much

Getting exhausted I may have just lost it I feel like I'm losing my touch

Roll up another just get something inside of my head that'll punch

Bro must be stupid thinking he fuckin wit gang he must be a dunce

Y'all niggas laced out just like the bitches swear you be putting up fronts