Blood Orange ft. AWOL$ Lyrics

Yea

Yea

Seats in the GT3 blood orange

Italian VVS jumping out of Florence

Angel Boy business this shit too enormous

The world I'm living in

The gangsta niggas going corporate

Same world that got the gangsta niggas telling on us

They sleeping on me still

I guess they poppin melatonin

Rollie wit the bezel on it

Climbing every level on em

You never stood up in that paint

Wit all the pressure on you

You know the hustle fundamental for us

I thank the lord I made away fine

Flying bows over state lines

To buy my daughter pampers

Then reinvest in the main grind

Me and you ain't the same kind

You can see that you ain't blind

Side bar

Man come and get this hoe cuz she ain't mine

Stop running ya fuckin mouth

For I have them angel boys put demons in front ya house

Real Gs move in silence

So you should know what I'm bout

You can ask the street niggas around me bet they a vouch

Soon as my daughter went to sleep

I hit the streets running routes

Soon as my daughter hit the sheets

I had chickens on the couch

If he got em for the low

Then we get it in large amounts

Too much money for the safe

Gotta put it in Roth accounts look

My shit as tall as the Eiffel

You wanna war wit us

You better come equipped with ya riffles

I'm creating my rivals

Yea

Uhh

The leather seats in the AMG Benz bloody red

Say bloody mary in the mirror

Tryna duck the feds

Three time felon on the run

He had to cut his dreads

He wash his hands in holy water

Pray that god forgive

And god forbid he tell a name

And it come back to me

No alibi I was selling apples to Adam Eve

My pops a hustler ain't fall to far from the apple tree

Pray for my son and the ones that gotta came after me

It's in ya blood lil nigga what you gon do about it

Rose gold Rolexes concrete we grew up out it

Pray for me know I'm sinning in pursuit of profit

Fresh in every picture

Just in case the boys in blue been watching

Yea jump out the ride fly and give em my good side

Quit while you ahead you been getting bread

My nigga why should I

You telling me switch up my lane

And give up the game my nigga why would I

Just trust me it's hard to explain

If you wanna change you gotta say goodbye

Say goodbye to the game

The adrenaline rush

Goldman Sachs my new plug

Profit stack every month

Put Audemars on the wrist

It doesn't have to be cuffs

When you really self made

There ain't no salary cuts