Make It Home Lyrics

Got off my ass for this shit, Hopped in my bag for this shit

I done put in so much damn time, I need to Patek my wrist

Spend so much time on the stove, I can't be bad at this shit

Hoes gon' be hoes, my nigga, you can't be mad at that bitch

Run with my slimes like I'm Stitch, My chopper hit like it's glitch

It ain't no jammin' this bitch, Finger fuck the trigger, spammin' that bitch

Now he can't make it home, four-five, just hit his dome

Now he can't make it home, four-five, just hit his dome

Yeah, we got A-Rs, and A-R-Ps, shootin' like a missile

With all these magazines, we can shoot for a week, you'll catch an issue

Got a couple killers with me, they'll wipe a nigga nose, They don't need a tissue

He signed his life away, just tryin' to stand tough, I know they miss you

That five-five-six, it got the slightest of touch, It'll try to kiss you

Can't give that nigga clout on none of my songs, I don't won't even diss you

Got it out the mud, got it out the dirt, got it out the sand, got it off the gristle

I be so high up in the sky, I'm chillin' with the planes and missiles

And when I cop that Bentley truck, I'm needin' all the bells and whistles

And I'm just workin' overtime like I got out at late dismissal

Say, what's your issue? Hey grab a tissue

You play with gang, Your family miss you, No I won't diss you

Back to a check, cause that's my issue

Got off my ass for this shit, Got in my bag for this shit

I done put in so much damn time, I need to Patek my wrist

Spend so much time on the stove, I can't be bad at this shit

Hoes gon' be hoes, my nigga, you can't be mad at that bitch

Run with my slimes like I'm Stitch, My chopper hit like it's glitch

It ain't no jammin' this bitch, Finger fuck the trigger, spammin' that bitch

Now he can't make it home, four-five, just hit his dome

Now he can't make it home, four-five, just hit his dome

Don't play no games, yeah, this shit get insane

So stay in your lane, they think that I changed

But way 'fore the fame, they ain't help with a thing

Now I got a name, and I'm makin' a change

They wanna come ride on the wave, they're givin' me praise

For spittin' my pain, I guess that they feelin' the same

Crib so high in the sky like a soarin

Got me a bad bitch with me when I'm tourin

She call up her friends, and I tell them, come join

They lovin' this life, all the diamonds and foreign

But I peep the fake, you would not leave me torn

They think I'm Mario, askin' for coins

Rock out a show, and I hop in the foreign

Feel like the chosen one, Jason Bourne

Got off my ass for this shit, Got in my bag for this shit

I done put in so much damn time, I need to Patek my wrist

Spend so much time on the stove, I can't be bad at this shit

Hoes gon' be hoes, my nigga, you can't be mad at that bitch

Run with my slimes like I'm Stitch, My chopper hit like it's glitch

It ain't no jammin' this bitch, Finger fuck the trigger, spammin' that bitch

Now he can't make it home, four-five, just hit his dome

Now he can't make it home, four-five, just hit his dome

Yeah

Yeah

Yeah

Yeah