Still Shinin' (Feat. Paul Wall & Mike D.)

Still Shinin' (Feat. Paul Wall & Mike D.)

Z-Ro

Альбом: Still Shinin'
Длительность: 3:43
Год: 2024
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Текст песни

Yeah, Wednesday night we roll on four (roll on four)
Black alligator everywhere (everywhere), that's right
They don't come out, you gotta lift those doors (lift those doors)
Tell the valet don't close them, leave them hoes up in the air (in the air)

Huh, I bump screw in my ride (screw in my ride)
A six and a mountain dude over a crushed eye, eye (over a crushed eye)
One G without a crew, I be just fine (I be just fine)
This ain't a 22, they all on my side (side)

Still shining like sunlight dipped in chrome
And I got a lot of money on my phone
If you ain't tryna pay me, leave me alone
Still grinding like break pads go bad
Tryna give my kids shit that I never had
You don't work, you don't eat, homie, straight like that

Straight like that, trunk stay crack, cakes stay fat
Turn heads, but never turn my back
Turn my partner on the paper, that's a no-brainer
Got a shooter on retainer, that's my disclaimer

Riding candy on foes is a Texas tradition
I've been all around the world on a big mo' mission
Ain't no 401k, bro, and ain't no pension
On a never-ending life quest to count a commission

And need I mention, I never met a millionaire, cops potato
Hard work on the agenda if you're chasing paper
Long as diamonds still shining, I'll be trying to buy 'em
And long as China make grills, I have a top and bottom

Fuck a bank, got a pocket full of frames
They gon' put me in the grave with sealed up paper
I pour up, drink, and roll up dank, all I know is get more bank
And don't stop until I can't steal shining, baby

Still shining like sunlight dipped in chrome
And I got a lot of money on my phone
If you ain't tryna pay me, leave me alone
Still grinding like break pads go bad
Tryna give my kids shit that I never had
You don't work, you don't eat, homie, straight like that

Uh-oh, guess who's berserk?
Hot out the pot like A1 crack
Dope game over Blaine Rosen for that
Reincarnation of Pat got the hood on my back

They say when broken ain't no hope for the nigga
Muhammad Ali, I rope it open to niggas
Ha, yeah, 'cause real G's pay dues
You ain't never took a loss and you ain't never been a boss

Man for man, hand to hand, I went off that soft
Got a line for me going down, floss that rouse
Top down on the freeway, hater give me leeway
I do it high G, play tippin' on a skeet

Tasty the skyline, wingin' to the city
30 floors up high, man, I hogged and did it
I'm a baller, hogged a big sack
Bro, they tried to hold us down, but we ain't let them hold us back still

Still shining like sunlight dipped in chrome
And I got a lot of money on my phone
If you ain't tryna pay me, leave me alone
Still grinding like break pads go bad
Tryna give my kids shit that I never had
You don't work, you don't eat, homie, straight like that