Alone

Lyrics

[Intro: Cash Kidd] These boys don't know what it take for real Nah, for real Ayy [Verse 1: Cash Kidd] The hoes, the cars, the cribs, the frauds The trips, the malls, I got turf on my lawn I just took a lil' pink thing, don't know when I'm landing All my bitch know is "sí, sí", I thought that bitch was Spanish Put Chanel on a dick-eater, don't take them for granted This an eighteen-hundred-dollar coat, Peyton Manning Only put my cheese last, when I make a sandwich Big 40 shoot the blood out this bitch, Meg Thee Stallion Be for real, coach the whole city like I'm Joe McFashion Say she used to go with me, bitch know she cappin' He's a wimp in real life, but write the coldest captions This money, un-breaking my heart, I feel like Toni Braxton Told her I don't want no kids, left them on her lashes My dawg start hating, shit, I would too It's ironic how his eyes closed, but he in I.C.U Red and white Prada bucket hat, feel like Dr. Seuss [Chorus: Dimitri Devaughn] Can't get money with everybody They don't wanna hustle Feelings been on fuck everybody Grind hard from the muscle I just wanna ball, never fall off No, no, no, no One thing I'ma do is chase that bread, fasho [Verse 2: Payroll Giovanni] I keep friends friends, but I hustle with the skill See, skill handle business, friends rarely pay they bill Living life on my own terms, fuck how you feel You ain't real with yourself, so how you telling me what's real? Lately I've been on chill, closing deals, still get 'em vacuum sealed I was in the basement, mind on a mansion still Paid all dues, you niggas passed the bill We lit as shit, all them captions real I was funded with my street money Now I wake up and buy chains with in-my-sleep money We see who can blow money, who can keep money I secured next year with last week's money Yeah, I'm out of town on the rooftop 1942 shots, toasting to a new pot She put me on her stories, zoomin' in on my new watch Don't fuck your camera up with them blue rocks Yeah [Chorus: Dimitri Devaughn] Can't get money with everybody They don't wanna hustle Feelings been on fuck everybody Grind hard from the muscle I just wanna ball, never fall off No, no, no, no One thing I'ma do is chase that bread, fasho [Outro] (Damn, Machu, why'd you have to do 'em like that?)