Lyrics

[Intro: Quilly] Yeah, niggas' already know what it is Quilly Millz, New Wave 2 nigga [Verse 1: Quilly] Yeah, you can check my background, I ain't rappers Why would even mention all of these weak rappers? I'm so appalled, I might just draw And remind ya'll of how I killed them before Pain is a virtue, I can't rap commercial I used to have my whole bundle gone before curfew Gave them shit to run with, look what I did so far I ain't even asking no more, I'ma just bogard Game like Bo Jack, Hot Topic; know that Give your chick hard wood, she treat you like a throwback Can't be around broke niggas' cuz they don't want shit Never grab, waiting on their OG's to front shit In the trap, the packs doing front flips The semi make you back flip but you don't even want this I be with a fine dike, she don't even want dick All she want is pussy and money, we on the same shit If I could turn back the hands, I wouldn't change it I ain't a celebrity yet, I'm street famous But them bitches give me brain till their brainless Send her back to you and she kiss you with them same lips I lost Bleek on a bike, I lost Reef cuz of dice Them cold days, I couldn't sleep through them nights Lost some of my close homies There's a hand full of niggas' that's live The rest phony, pin the tail on the Donkey Old boy told me "let's get them" I snap out and black out like T-Rex syndrome I run the streets, I'm out here, I'm around I be up gettin' money, I'll sleep when I'm in the ground Marijuana by the ton, coke by the onion [?] knockin' trees off more than Paul Bunions I be smokin' deaf, nigga last year was nothing This shit right here, have me lit; time square My goons catchin' reck and their amped up I'm just gettin' money, tryna stretch like I'm cramped up I can't wait til' the first come Same clothes for days, I get fly when the work done I'm high when the juice around or when the percs come You're a gun collector nigga, you don't squirt none I'm so sick of this, run up in your Queen on the strength of stickin' it I know, I'm ridiculous Expensive high, you ain't puffin or sippin' this Disrespectful, talkin bout can you put a nick in this It's cold where I'm at, we hustle sacks, St. Nicholas You know where I'm at if you really wanted to get it in Names in a statement, I will never quote The streets dried up, we never better coke I'm playin' chess to a stale mate The hard times make the good times feel great I be high on Mt. Kushmore Smokin' the same weed Wiz Khalifa got booked for Loyalty is everything, the money is nothing dawg Soon as a nigga act shady, I'ma cut him off Brim low, outside smokin' indow And, I was out there when you was watching from the window I'm tryna make a dollar every time the wind blow I be in the lab killin' beats like Timbo I don't dance, I don't party, I don't disco Put the streets on a disc, and sell a lot of Crisco Nigga..