28z

Lyrics

[Verse 1: Z] Look 28z in the trunk, four-fifths in the front (yeah) And I ain't even trynna dump, but ain't no safety on (haha) I'm sick of really dropping ashes where they hating on The fact that I'm still scraping on this glass plate till these flakes is gone I always knew Z would make the cheese Like fuck it, they don't need the mic Rip this coke on your fucking teeth (god damn) Chop it up to rock n roll Shit sound like mop and glow Blowing on some super green Sipping 40s on the back-route No Ls and I can't tell if the cops is on my ass now Fuck it Cause most of y'all be rapping 'bout posted at the trapping house During shit that you would brag about if you done it (real shit) Cause I've spent most of my life chasing dubs Falling off, stacking up Balling out and scraping funds (shit I ain't need it) All I was ever dreaming though, was family with some green involved Plenty shows but I'm back to nugs (Fuck it, here we go) 28 grams I'mma break that down With at least six rounds, get to acting up If God could see hope your grammy look (please, just this once) If not I get some fucking stubs, just trynna make a couple bucks and be here when my kids grow up Until then [Chorus: Z] Sipping 40s on the back route No Ls and I can't tell if the cops is on my ass now I'm fucking QPs in the trunk (yeah) Purple in my lungs and a ball of the funk (ugh) Sipping 40s on the back route No Ls and I can't tell if the cops is on my ass now I'm fucking QPs in the trunk (yeah) Purple in my lungs and a ball of the funk (ugh) [Bridge: Z] I've been on super hustle double like I'm tipsy again Don't want no trouble, just some crumble and a zippy of Red And then we flip And then we flip, flip C'mon [Verse 2: Lon Gotti] (Yeah, Lon Gotti) I saw my momma I'm about my dollars I used to post a ball of fama with them bags of scamma Young and hustling for a check Try and stack some commas Staying ready for that flex, so I pack a llama (woo) Yeah I'm out here standing on my own two I ain't even tripping because I know what the stove do I could get to whipping, work my wrists and get to blipping Pussy, weed and prescription Pop my Ps for a purpose To put a P in position And ever since I was a young-ing I got plenty cake I used to use my shoe box for a piggy bank When y'all was word searching, I was curb serving Every 24 hours I'm moving 28 [Verse 3: Z] You see what the money make I dummy shake and bum a eighth (ugh) And flip it to this 28 again and still plugging fades Told you "get gritty" You get muddy wake I love a break (yeah) I kick back and blow one-hundred flakes at dummy rates My whole family blowing trees, grew up in the clouds Make my money bake, watch it rise then I take it out (go get that) What you talk about, I pick 'em up and lay 'em out Cellphone chirp, curb serve then I'm backing round Tilted the lock of the poet, they knowing I'm openly posting my 5s and true Fuck with the team and I'm serving ya green all the circles and preens so we're ominous dude (now let me see this shit) Let's get higher than I ever been Flip pounds on my relatives and put my family on this pedestal (it's all for them) [Bridge: Z] If I got cookies in the trunk And he love wide place to go on and book me in a bunk Z's state to state with the funk Chopping Ramen for the plug 0-5 will miss me when I duck [Chorus: Z] Sipping 40s on the back route No Ls and I can't tell if the cops is on my ass now I'm fucking QPs in the trunk Purple in my lungs and a ball of the funk Sipping 40s on the back route No Ls and I can't tell if the cops is on my ass now I'm fucking QPs in the trunk Purple in my lungs and a ball of the funk [Bridge: Z] I've been on super hustle double like I'm tipsy again Don't want no trouble, just some crumble and a zippy of Red And then we flip And then we flip, flip C'mon