Lifestyle (Intro)

Lyrics

[Intro] Ayy [Verse 1] I run this shit like a leader, ayy I collect all my time like a meter, ayy Measure your time out the beaker, ayy And we gon' pour up this shit by the liter, yeah Bitch wanna check my, bet she wanna check how I get fly Peep this shit like a bird, mean eye Baby, ain't no worries, we high Gon' check the urgency Sit back countin' these chips knowin' niggas wanna murder me, ayy Hot nigga ridin' round town, burn a nigga with the third degree Breakin' through the surface, tryna see if this shit worth it Closin' these curtains, showin' these niggas my purpose Ayy, if I don't protect my own Can't kick, these niggas just clones Hear facts, you can hear my tone Hellcat, you can hear my engine runnin', ayy Get to work and I call these plays Good Lord, my nigga won't fold Countin' these deads 'til my money get old Can't fuck with these niggas, they be penny-pinchin' Countin' favors, had to fuck your ho until she woke the neighbors Audemars, stay with the capers Yeah, you know I'm pimpin', dawg Showed you niggas how to ball I'm the one that stack it tall [Chorus] Asian persuasion, I like your cajun, ayy Lost my train of thought from all these woods I'm facin' Pinot Gris the taste, Mason Margiela lace Niggas want that smoke, it's on delivery, be sure to answer I flood the streets, I leave the levies broke, ayy No nigga cut like me, can't speak the shit I spoke It's known to shoot, I always show up at the woke, ayy That blasphemy you speakin', hope a nigga choke, choke [Verse 2] Keep my pistol, hey Nigga want smoke with me, gang Hollow-tips bullets gon' kiss you, ayy Damn, then your mama gon' miss you, hey, ayy Hop out the jeep, then hop in the G, I'm switching, hey Keep that fire like Benson, huh, piece up all intentions Lord knows I'ma hold down my own Real nigga shit, bread up in my bones I ain't got no time to waste, ayy, woah Visine in my vision, eyes gon' find a way [Chorus] Asian persuasion, I like your cajun, ayy Lost my train of thought from all these woods I'm facin' Pinot Gris the taste, Mason Margiela lace Niggas want that smoke, it's on delivery, be sure to answer I flood the streets, I leave the levies broke, ayy No nigga cut like me, can't speak the shit I spoke It's known to shoot, I always show up at the woke, ayy That blasphemy you speakin', hope a nigga choke, choke