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Lyrics

[Intro] Yeah, Laurenovich, check it Yo, yo, yo [Verse 1] Same routine, runnin' through the jungle flow Money in the bungalow Bout to fuck another hoe Bodying another show, if not I'm in the hood probably Fake friends frontin' probably would if they could rob me Hats low, rockin' shades, probably play the spot for days Couple niggas off the block up top 'cause they got knocked for raids Watch for aids Scandalous bitches wanna go raw No time for getting burnt or having kids I'm going on tour Let this rap money get like the 9 might bust in your door Took fast or something feel like 90 rocking Fila velour Reppin' righteous, think with spices, most 'dem speak for the poor I go to jail without no bail before I sleep on the floor Still on that Queens shit, the only thing I keep it is raw I got a mean grip, for yours my fuckin' handle's obscure I need a clean chick, that loves me for my vandal allure That keeps her feet right, and always rocks a sandal or [?] [Chorus] I'm from the three letter, two era, do better, new sweater New cheddar, new leather, nigga what up All my people fucking with me, fuck around and get cut Outdoorsman in the building now who fucking with us [Verse 2] Same routine, s'getting cream, plus we [?] My damn team is known for looking fresh just like my [?] Expand green, lean, promethazine but rocking sneakers Flexin' purple [?] probably spot us on your bleachers [???] I'll pick a chick and spout the features I'm still - up in the street with all the [?] and the creatures [Unfinished]