Feelings Video (MV)

All these bitches do is play with me
Dime bitches tryna have they way with me
How could you leave
You told me that you would stay with me
Gettin' Trump money, no, you cannot be great with me
Niggas tryna play both sides, it ain't no gray with me
Eating off this plate with me, like what you put in
My brodie in them cells, that nigga keep gettin booked in
Watch that back door, the snakes bringing the crooks in
No lookin', cause you'll get popped tryna put your foot in
I'm really with it
Nigga sayin' he want what I got, he could come and get it
Blow a bag and get a bag, that's another ticket
She want it bad, she wanna ride, told her she could stick it in
And then I'm f*ckin' her friends
Keep spinnin' on the ops, I told em' I ain't makin' amends
I pull up in the Rari', next day, pullin' up in the Benz
She keep lookin' worried, cause we f*ckin' behind the tints
On a daily, I'm duckin' the feds, Brody got locked up again
They see this pain in my eyes, they think it's a act
They let it rain on them guys, not tryna get wet
I put my hands to the sky, I'm tryna repent
But I'ma sin again, cuz I'ma spin a bend, yeah
And that's the life that I'm livin'
I give her all this love, like why do I never get it
She tellin' me she love me, but played me in the beginnin
I'm driving to the rim, it get physical when I finish, yeah
I need a shoulder
I had all this love as a kid, now I'm older
They say they don't know us, yeah, like what's the hold up
You ain't bringin' pounds to the match, then we can't roll up
We Chiefing like we Sosa
Yeah, Shotti in the building, everybody gettin high
Put them double threes to the sky
We ballin for the guys
All these bitches on me, niggas hatin', don't know why
Put them threes to the sky, oh
Put them threes to the sky
Put them threes to the sky
Yeah
Yeah, RIP to Ross, I'ma ball for my brodie
Hottest young nigga in the city, they need to tour me
Glock with extensions, cuz niggas be tryna floor me
And I can't lean on nobody, so I'ma pour it
Ain't wanna be around, I ain't beggin' and I ain't forcin
That pussy nigga died, no names, but I endorse it
And I am not a gentleman, bitch
Don't let that door hit you
Four-four split you, he died, now that's an old issue
Go get your get back
Thinkin' they your guys, ain't your guys, how you died at that kickback
Talkin' bout some bands, run your pants, let me get that
Ain't cuffin' on no bitches, I'm just pimpin' like I'm Slickback
Cops pulled me, they ain't find the pole like a trick hat
And if you with the opps, then I'm layin' where your bitch at
40 to your mouth, clean it out like a Tic-Tac
They know that we been X'n out the O's like it's Tic-Tac-Toe
But this shit gettin' old, I'm tryna take it to a new height
Keep puttin' out these songs, now it's bringing in a new hype
I'm f*ckin' model bitches, all dimes, I got a new type
And I'm a rapper, but you run up, and I'ma Pooh Shiesty
Know some niggas wanna be just like me
Gotta cut her off when she say she like me
Say to her like, sweetie, they want me because I'm icy
Like, keep up
Yeah, Shotti in the building, everybody gettin high
Put them double threes to the sky
We ballin for the guys
All these bitches on me, niggas hatin', don't know why
Put them threes to the sky, oh
Put them threes to the sky
Put them threes to the sky
Yeah