🎶 LYRICS:-
Chorus
In a ghost, Sitting low
I seen it all, I done most
Money come, friends come, money go
Real love, fake love I get ‘em both
You dunno
Nasty C verse
I don’t mean to be on my own dick but I was jus chilling & listening to me
Riding down da highway middle finger up I felt Mr bean
Lately I been talking to the reaper & tryna convince him to let me be
But somebody gotta have a strap
Then we all strap to our seats
Coz alotta niggas die in these streets
Somebody Vying this week
I don’t wanna be seen on tha side of the road & my body wrapped up like sweets
Remember those days when it was J & J Lavie
My city moved like 1 team
But Now niggas give us looks & steam
Chop chop, get to da cream
Heard alotta people don’t like me I’m worried, OMG
Bunch of fuckn goofballs
Tell my goons go get him, I hit em with the thru ball, stru god
Chorus
In a ghost, Sitting low
I seen it all, I done most
Money come, friends come, money go
Real love, fake love I get ‘em both
You dunno
Stogie T verse
In a Range, in a club,
Shooting my shot, In a golf,
She getting T off
Hitting them birdies
balls deep in the hole
Bend her back, get top
Left brats on her jaw
Get a bag, spend it all
Get it back when we tour
Get the stack
And stash that cash offshore
And I got mans on call
With a bad temper
That don’t like your sought
Internet thugs low key board
Hashtag war you Microsoft
Them guys are ops
They smile plot
Like Hyman Roth
If you gone bite the crotch
At least towel off
I better feel no vibe next time you wanna talk
Straight to the money all that yang get the sayonara
Yeah
Bunch of fucking goofballs
Tell my goon go get ‘em
Like an alley hoop dog
Strugod
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