Atmosphere

Lyrics

[Intro] (Viper) Yeah, the atmosphere better up here Hm [Verse] He went to the pen' for givin' out headshots, he's a jail blaster Like these rappers a competition of who gon' tell faster I cut up all the house but I bought a Yachtmaster I'm indie, I drop when I want, I gots no master Rappers can't even get fly, ain't got no budget for fashion What he spent on his chain was my budget at Saks Fifth Crash whips and get another one and hope I don't blamp it She likе, "Why you act right that bitch?" I've never been avеrage Dropped out of school and still graduated ahead of my classmates Bitch, the only time you ever had money was Backpage All these whips and chains on my neck givin' me back pain You either with me or against me, none of that halfway shit She came with half the payment, I handed her a fake dick I told her when she done, come back with somethin' that makes sense You can't be gettin' high, you only sippin' fake Tris You believed your dealer when he sold you a fake brick? You wanna get to my heart, bitch? Don't miss a payment It's plenty of niggas out here quick to save you, bitch I'm him, not one of them, better make it make sense All that pussy got some powers, can you make it break tricks? Designer shoes on, treatin' 'em like skateboard kicks The beat just switched up, so I'm finna punch in Is you gon' bring all your dough to the muffin man? Remember them days with pillow cases, we was stuffin' bands Bitch, I can tell you ain't had no nigga from the upper class You probably livin' at your mama houses on blow-up mattress I can tell you ain't never had shit 'cause you classic I'm a joint, I'ma keep gettin' money, don't panic A lot of y'all only seen money when the pandemic hit Bein' broke so contagious like a pandemic hit Goin' crazy in the field, I thought I had cheat codes In 2017, they came with them RICOs Ain't put no money in my books, then don't try to freeload Wanna act like a joint, but can't stick to the code No bail facin' life, nigga, you would've told Seen an opp and left a couple noodles in a fishbowl No, I ain't bipolar, bitch, but my wrist frozen I bet any nigga that don't like me, I'm shittin' on 'em Fit five to ten bands 'cause of different denim Rappers broke, they ain't got more money than my lil' homies You better take that watch back, boy, that's a lil' Rollie Local pharmacist, I got them Skittles on me Actin' fake tough, leave a nigga holey moly We don't talk to small fries or no jabronies, the Plug