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EST Gee - Bigger Than Life Or Death Album Lyrics



EST Gee - Bigger Than Life Or Death Lyrics






Riata Dada

I'm the real thang

Yeah, I can't vouch for them but they can vouch for me
Legend of Riata Dada, came up sellin' hank and weed
I can't make no opps not just look dead but I can make 'em bleed
Paper right and I ain't fightin' you in a gunfight with a steak knife
All these lawyers need helicopters tryna stop us 'cause I'm gon' yank right
When I move it's a chopper scene like the opera
I send a bitch nigga to the doctor
I was tryna stop you but all that shit you popped made it impossible
Switches, them semis spit like a run on sentence, it ain't no comma
If I wasn't this then I probably been done signed with DJ Drama
But I'm thuggin' and I'm shinin', f*ck with coke I roll with Gotti
When he met me I had sixty out, fifty stuffed in my pocket
If I signed it me and all partners, diamond chains and watches
We like mobsters, only difference is we sip syrup with out pasta
Aim is true, he's clocked in, I'll watch bloods and drop it, then he locked it
Pay him to wack his partners, niggas snakes but I'm an anaconda
I make shooters proper, one more with the cut it ain't hydrogen
Look I made it mama, came to save you first, you know I'm soldin'
This shit hypnotized me, only thing excite me is a body
He be acting cocky like we ain't shoot at him when he's with his mama
This a block out, gave it to my lil' partner, he flip niggas' Honda
They were coolin', we done mucked they shooter f*cked up they lil' roster
I was wrappin' chronic 'til I got a book, I'm hooked on 'phonics
I'm a Fendi scholar, hit it two three times and it's still proper
If that strong white, call this batch a boxer, Ivan Drago
Did I really leave the streets alone to rap, I ain't decided
Hit your partner top, he squirmin', jump like fishes outta water
I ain't got advice, just hit the trap and pray you make it out it
I had sneakers Nikes, can't let 'em sneak me twice, I gotta watch 'em
Get it movin', turn off your phone we finna slide, pop my yapper
They be wildin' 'til we hit they block, them niggas playin' possum
Niggas bold like we ain't takin' souls and puttin' 'em with my mama
And don't pat me at no shows, I got my gun and I get hot
I'm from Louisville where we wet our Blacks and sip raw at the bottom
I don't care how much he did, he rat, he do not get acknowledged
I'm with the same nigga who used play pitchback, tackle with Fat Chris on Redondo
Now I'm twelve floors up with a thick slut gettin' my dick sucked in a condo

Bitch nigga
5500 made man
EST Big Gee, nigga
You heard that shit, nigga
Real street nigga
Don't play me like no rapper
Jump off stage on one of you niggas
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Bryan Lamar Simmons, George Stone III, Hunter Brown, Joshua Luellen
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC




Make It Even

(FOREVEROLLING)

I had a book before I wrote a hook, tried it and it took
Hesi' bendy, Fendi blended, pressed, and pushed, J wan' kiss the cook
This big chopper'll chop a nigga roof, gangster as I look
If somethin' get killed, they hide for two, three months, we chase shit down on foot
Tryna bump, it ain't no front, niggas ain't outside to hunt
He was hatin', I had a hunch, I set somethin' up and somethin' get slumped
He ain't like that it's a front, put me in a song for what?
Even if it blow, you better not never post a show or nothin'
They get the lo' and don't do nothin', we get the lo', a soul go up
Why you fake want smoke with us? As if your bucks ain't slow enough
Niggas dead, I ain't makin' no diss, I make hits, they know what's up
When we war, I'm in the front, but when y'all beef, you Loaded Lux
On the phone, he sound so tough, I pulled up, niggas wasn't on nothin'
Most murders last thirty months and niggas still ain't called my bluff

Yeah, my mama always told me, "Baby, seeing is believing"
He slid on people, wasn't 'bout beef, and niggas ain't no demons
You know to keep your moves quiet, dyin' if I see him
The reason niggas know to up that yeeky, ain't no speakin'
The reason niggas grievin', tryna clique up, make it even
The reason niggas need help breathin', doctor, stop the bleedin'
The reason niggas' people pay for peace, but ain't no treaty
The reason niggas grievin', tryna clique up, make it even

You ain't gotta tell me niggas bums and ain't on nothin' like I ain't certain
Last time we was face-to-face that weekend was a funeral service
It's gon' always end in hearses, I took over through murder
I'm a boss, but suit up like a worker, I'm on this on purpose
We slide, I put the cleats aside and wet the field with Jergens
Like talkin', I think niggas worthless, startin' to make me nervous
That stick involved in several murders, clean, but it's still dirty
And the game, it blessed me 'cause I play with courage, streets atop my jersey
I got rich and get you stretched for thirty, Houston to New Jersey
It took prayin' for me to find my purpose, make sure I was worthy
I ain't say nothin' and they all heard me, however I word it
To see me shine, I know they dyin', they can't decide which worse

Yeah, my mama always told me, "Baby, seeing is believing"
He slid on people, wasn't 'bout beef, and niggas ain't no demons
You know to keep your moves quiet, dyin' if I see him
The reason niggas know to up that yeeky, ain't no speakin'
The reason niggas grievin', tryna clique up, make it even
The reason niggas need help grievin', doctor, stop the bleedin'
The reason niggas' people pay for peace, but ain't no treaty
The reason niggas grievin', tryna clique up, make it even
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Brian Roke, George Stone III, Jeffrey Lynn Jones Jr., Kameron Johnson
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Songtrust Ave, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.




5500 Degrees

(Enrgy made this one)

[EST Gee]
If I ain't a young shiner, then what do you call that?
F*ckin' niggas' hoes, he mad, textin' in all caps
Beef broad day, lay a nigga down, wave cap
Overkill drill, spin at the building the wake at
I'd be on what I'm on if I ain't rap
And it really wasn't no stressin' 'til them members came back
Niggas shook, family know we ain't playin' no more
Real trapper, hit my dope like my hand was broke
He on Insta' with all the smoke, but call sayin' he don't
You get pistol whipped for some petty shit, your head be swollen

[42 Dugg]
Yeah, I'll hit your mans up
Six hundred in hundreds, this shit there make 'em stand up
Run around actin' tough, but you not, boy
Where the cold bitches lookin' for the hot boys?
Fifty in the glizzy, I run my city
I ain't stoppin' shit, catch me if you can
Just this month, sixty G's off pants
I'm not, I'm not f*ckin' no fan
Ridin' 'round with the top down
Sixty-five grams, ten of it is topside, stop lyin'
I done made a couple M's a year without tryin'

[EST Gee]
Opps ain't had a sixty-day stretch without dyin'
Y'all got all that gangster shit down except slidin'
You ain't grind three days straight without hidin'
Gave Bands twenty-five, we ain't takin' no time

[42 Dugg]
Ayy, throw it off the glass, I'ma dunk it (Come here)
Since y'all niggas apes, I don't mind killin' monkeys
Don't step back
White buffs, no ice, these plain
Posted in the hood, all ten of my chains
Big 30 on me, off an eight of that drank
Bitch said she in love with who?
Ten on the ground, 'bout a dub in the roof
I'm a thug with a tool

[Rylo Rodriguez]
Promoter called my phone when I left, couldn't get the pipe in
Every nigga 'round me having motion like a tight end
Bought Hot Wheels for my nephew, but I picked him up in my twin
L with the coolant system, I bought it for a hotboy
Did a feature with a nigga, 21, I'm walkin' shit like Deion
His city say he a rat, so I had to send him back a refund
Say, Dot, that car right there look like it got the narcs in it
We the ones who ridin' 'round with more shots than the bartenders
I bet you we'll get them niggas off your block
I bet you we don't let them niggas get off no shots
Come through, show a nigga how to slide
Last night, I f*cked a booster, woke up, text everybody size
Played plain janes, but now I'm goin' bustdowns
And Zelle the ho a rack to make sure that they touch down

[EST Gee]
She ain't been ridin' with 'em when them bullets start flyin'
Carpet same color snow if his head brown
We ain't got no protein in Louisville, this a brick town
A blicky in your glizzy with a switchy, you can't miss town
Niggas really starved 'til we started bringin' that big round
Mix it with the rizzy, give that lil' dog a pit growl
Like I ain't the one who started this shit
Like I don't make sure them lawyers paid and them charges dismissed

[Lil Baby]
I'm short, but I'll lift a nigga ass up
Way before coronavirus, I had them youngins masked up (Mask up)
Tired of soda bottles, I pour a four inside my cup (Straight)
And you can't post an Instagram model one of us can't f*ck (Haha)
I be at practice, I got real skills, none of this shit luck
Tell the owner tell security chill, 'cause none of us gettin' touched
When I find out where you niggas hide out, one y'all gettin' crushed
I'm like, "Fine, I might come out and vibe, but one of y'all gettin' f*cked"
Got the finest car, one of a kind, I don't slow down for much
I got twenty million cash now and still ain't near enough
I'm goin' too crazy, I'm the Wayne of this new generation, niggas fugazi
They can't f*ck with us no type of way, these niggas too lazy
I'm cut from a different type of cloth, I don't know who raised 'em
Every time I pop out, I hear women screamin', "Ooh, Baby"
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Dion Hayes, Dominique Jones, George Stone III, Marlon Lafeyette Brown Jr., Ryan Adams
Copyright: Lyrics © Songtrust Ave




Bigger Than Life Or Death

Niggas internet gangsters, man
(Gucci how you feel? Yeah)
(FOREVEROLLING)
(Gucci how you feel?)

Ridin' in somethin' that cost six figures to get the pape' tag
Wit' a bitch who say she the realest but she got fake ass (but her ass fake)
I pop all these Percs, when I don't it'll make my day bad
Yellow Vs, .230 RPs, mixed with Hi-Tech razz (mixed with Hi-Tech razz)
Crystal bows, two into four, get me like ten grand
That's a brick, clear as my wrist, ice like it's sprained bad (ice, ice, ice)
Remember turnin' quarters to zips and it made my J's mad
Remember niggas love me to death, so I made 'em play dead
Thoroughbred, can't say I ain't give 'em all I had (can't say I ain't give 'em all)
But it wasn't enough, activate or you can't lock in wit us
We don't trust, all of 'em tinted up, we tryna hit on somethin'
When they slid on us, end up wreckin' paralyzed and stuck
It ain't safe to ride down Pop lil' bruh, not even on the bus (not even on the bus)
Niggas got a better chance at playin' the lottery than playin' with us
Fakin' tough, I called his bluff, set the bait, kill the wolf (yeah, yeah, yeah)
Your opinion don't mean nothin', you ain't never slid with us
Last time you put in work, nigga, I was a youngin'
.57 puncture a sucker easy as butter
Heat'll knock the meat outta somethin' and make it puss up
You ain't kill nothin' this calendar, shut the f*ck up (be quiet)
You ain't worth a hunnid or better then shut the f*ck up (shut the f*ck up)
In another nigga hood icy, I ain't got nothin' tucked (I got my ice on)
Don't add too much water then stir it and it's gon' lump up
Act like I ain't put in that work when you seen me come up (got it out the mud)
Like I ain't supposed to be here and I just got lucky (I got lucky)
It's funny, same niggas that hate me the ones I fronted (the ones I made)
Knowin' you afraid 'cause you post me and made it public
Knowin' if I tell 'em to go for it ain't no puntin'
F*ck them niggas talkin' about?

Niggas better quit playin', man
Keep that shit internet, man
'Cause niggas don't wanna bump for real in the streets
Know we really out here, man
We the reason shits the way it is, man
And never be the same
Bigger than Life or Death
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: George Stone III, Jeffrey Lynn Jones Jr., Ronnie O'Bannon
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC




Sky Dweller

See how much you really love your family
'Cause of you, this, yeah, yeah

I don't get tired of thuggin', I'ma be on this 'til judgement
They told me leave the streets alone to rap, but I wasn't budgin' (FOREVEROLLING)
Might shoot you in your head, this bitch look dead, it ain't no tusslin'
This beef started with chopper, chop kept duckin', we hit your cousin
Can't no nigga say he hoed me or owed me, they made attempts
They heard Geeski get shit killed, I put a hundred on 'em like Wilt
They can't handle us, we stiff, ain't no smilin', shakin' hands
They say you ratted, we revokin' passes, blow my fire like dragons
Niggas backwards, I don't take shit for granted, we take shit for ransom
See how much you really love your family, 'cause of you, this happened

Ain't no big doggin' me, nigga, I'm a Rottweiler
I used to serve one nigga two bricks, it cost a Sky-Dweller
Ask about the island, boy, we sent shit to the hospital
They all talk that murder shit, but niggas really shoplifters
Hold your Rollie up if you ain't been involved in cop business
Keep your Rollie up if you a hustler, I'm tryna shop with you
Hold your Rollie up if you self-made, ain't got no big dog
Keep your Rollie up, you ever touched a brick of fentanyl, yeah, yeah

I got pendin' cases and one bond that still need payin'
They want one mil' for lil' Kayda, know I'm comin' to get you, baby
Know my heart might get me killed, but it got me here, so risks I'm takin'
We don't never write no statements or give tips, we don't f*ck with bacon
I done trapped across the nation, I'll take it back to the basics
I serve white and brown, I ain't racist, die for attention, I'll make 'em famous
Better stay in my good graces, call, you sayin' your dog ain't make it
Blood addictive, I can taste it, we beat all our murder cases

Ain't no big doggin' me, nigga, I'm a Rottweiler
I used to serve one nigga two bricks, it cost a Sky-Dweller
Ask about the island, boy, we sent shit to the hospital
They all talk that murder shit, but niggas really shoplifters
Hold your Rollie up if you ain't been involved in cop business
Keep your Rollie up if you a hustler, I'm tryna shop with you
Hold your Rollie up if you self-made, ain't got no big dog
Keep your Rollie up, you ever touched a brick of fentanyl, yeah, yeah
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: George Stone III, Jeffrey Lynn Jones Jr.
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC




Lick Back Remix

Yeah
(FOREVERROLLING)
You niggas know y'all can't f*ck with me, nigga (yeah, yeah, yeah)
(Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

Throw the hood up and then we skrrt off
Slidin' in that Trackhawk, all my jewelry on, my shirt off
Turn the phone on DND, on silent, all alerts off
It's a fast car, but I'm movin' slow, I like my syrup raw
Every nigga 'round me shoot that yeek and get they merch off
I don't bark, I bite I got more paper than yo' big dawg
Wanna change yo' life? My best advice a brick of fentanyl
This bitch type is wife, I might just let the condom slip off
Ain't too many like me, ninety-nine percent of them rip offs
On point even at her spot I never take my kicks off
Ask my opps how it feel to wake up daily and get shit on
You get in yo' feelings and make diss songs
I make at yo' people's house, outside, shootin' that blick songs
And I'm still good on every block I used to knock P's on
Boss I get you chalked, my name ain't somethin' that you should speak on
Pulled out twenty somethin' just to let Johnny put my teeth on
My money ten feet tall, but I ain't something you should shoot at
Kill something, you wanna lock in with us I thought you knew that
My plug drove the load in on a truck, next day he flew back
I talk so much shit I need a Tic-Tac
I got five thousand for you, help me set this wolf trap
Started a new strain smokin' yo' man, this here a wolf pack
Up on the score, but we still active like we on get-back
Only thing gon' take that pain away is if you get racks
Forever get my lick back
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: George Stone III, Jeffrey Jones
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Songtrust Ave




In Town

(Turn me up, Josh)
(Trill on the keys)
Yeah
(Eastwave, you cooked this?)

My patience short, I can't go back and forth
I passed out pieces of my heart in hopes you leave a corpse
This the most murders in history, left the city torched
Maybe now they get the point
They wasn't with us when I had like fifty bows on Tubman Court (ayo Bleu)
They can't question nothin', we got our rank up now
I stand up straight, I know at night, they pray they take me down
I gave him assignments and he promised to make me proud
Only way you get home safe is if we ain't in town

And if I am, he hit on (hit on)
I'm tryna get somethin' sent home (I'm tryna get sent home)
Right where your partner rest in piss, they try to flush your shit on (bah, bah, bah)
But niggas track stars, I don't know why they act hard (why they act hard)
Only shoot at backboards (yeah), makin' sure he don't survive
That's what we double back for, right now, I'm in rare form
Niggas only use they feet in shootouts, they got leg arms (leg arms)
He died 'fore he hit the ground, the first two shots was head lungs (bah, bah, bah)
Bullets hittin', have you feelin' all over your body like it's bedbugs (bah, bah)
Four deep on the same block, a flunky had kilt lil' dead homes
Niggas out here reppin' like they steppin', know they dead wrong (niggas know they dead wrong)
I can promise pain for your last name even once you gone
Hard times and sad songs and blood split from guns drawn (hard times and sad songs and blood)

My patience short, I can't go back and forth
I passed out pieces of my heart in hopes you leave a corpse
This the most murders in history, left the city torched
Maybe now they get the point
They wasn't with us when I had like fifty bows on Tubman Court
They can't question nothin', we got our rank up now
I stand up straight, I know at night, they pray they take me down
I gave him assignments and he promised to make me proud
Only way you get home safe is if we ain't in town

Can't call you my dawg if you ain't the one that's on the block with me (let's get it)
If you ever snake me one time ever, ain't no apologies (yeah, yeah, yeah)
Learned fill up blocks before I filled out for some colleges (yeah, yeah, yeah)
Few times, kicked it with some rivals, it turned out to be robbery (yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
Ever hit a stain on a hundred pounds? Gotta get it off
On parole, if that drive too long, I take them switches off (yeah, yeah, yeah)
They throw up signs, this picture for the feds, make sure you send it off
Three hundred thousand for the Lamb' truck, I make the engine cough
I need drugs, I take prescription, I'm gifted (yeah, yeah)
And I can't tell you nothin', you gon' gossip all my business
I care about my dawgs, not the blogs, I'm the trenches
When I'm thinkin' 'bout Von, I put an eight inside a Mystic (yeah)

My patience short, I can't go back and forth
I passed out pieces of my heart in hopes you leave a corpse
This the most murders in history, left the city torched
Maybe now they get the point
They wasn't with us when I had like fifty bows on Tubman Court (ayo Bleu)
They can't question nothin', we got our rank up now
I stand up straight, I know at night, they pray they take me down
I gave him assignments and he promised to make me proud
Only way you get home safe is if we ain't in town
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Bennett Eub, Braylen Rembert, Daiki Ishii, Durk Banks, George Stone III, Joshua Samuel
Copyright: Lyrics © Songtrust Ave, Warner Chappell Music, Inc., EMPIRE PUBLISHING




Price Tag

Make that ass go ba-rup-a-pum-pum
Make that ass go ba-rup-a-pum-pum
Make that ass-, make that ass-
Make that ass go ba-rup-a-pum-pum (FOREVEROLLING)

Yeah, twenty-five hunnid all in fives, tens, and twenties
Every other hunnid, she forget when I was ugly
I still call her natural if she got it from her stomach
Actin' brand new like she ain't used to let us run her
Good box come with a price tag on it
Fire top come with a price tag on it
Tell me what's the cost, I can spare a couple hunnid
That money ain't nothin', I'ma buy it if I want it (yeah, yeah, yeah)

She my nurse bae, we at her place
She said your sex was so weak, it made her turn gay
She ain't the type to let you f*ck her on the first date
She been fiendin' for Gee in the worst way
I told her go, baby, it's your birthday
F*ckin' with me, I can upgrade your purse game
I told her (make that ass), move like an earthquake
I done spent two hunnid every day for a month straight

Yeah, twenty-five hunnid all in fives, tens, and twenties
Every other hunnid, she forget when I was ugly
I still call her natural if she got it from her stomach
Actin' brand new like she ain't used to let us run her
Good box come with a price tag on it
Fire top come with a price tag on it
Tell me what's the cost, I can spare a couple hunnid
That money ain't nothin', I'ma buy it if I want it
What it cost? What it cost?
What it cost?
What it cost?
What it cost?

It can't be that much
Way she cleaned it all up, I ain't see no nut
She'll never will let you f*ck like she bleed all month
And I like her, I give her tongue, but I don't eat no butt
She want a street nigga, a whole brick flipper
A rich shooter, money getter, and a yeek gripper
I give it to her, she throw it back like a flea flicker
She let me hit it in the car, left my seat squishy

Yeah, yeah, twenty-five hunnid all in fives, tens, and twenties
Every other hunnid, she forget when I was ugly
I still call her natural if she got it from her stomach
Actin' brand new like she ain't used to let us run her
Good box come with a price tag on it
Fire top come with a price tag on it
Tell me what's the cost, I can spare a couple hunnid
That money ain't nothin', I'ma buy it if I want it
What it cost? What it cost?

Make that ass-
Make that ass-
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: George Stone III, Jeffrey Lynn Jones Jr., Kameron Johnson
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC




Run N 2 Me

(Helluva made this beat, baby)
Take a nigga dream, chase him down

Sayin' you gon' take this, nah take which
Take switch, anyone you touch gon' come with eight blicks
Eight ripped shirts for the same cliques
Niggas can't get up with me they don't take the same risks
My lil' nigga rap, trap, loves me and takin' hits, my jury ain't racist
I walk right in rows, you weren't active with them poles
With us nigga you might have froze
And these reds on steel, get caught I'm poppin', be a free kill
I'm takin' niggas' dreams, you chase 'em down, I feel like Meek Mill
They can tell you how that RIP feel, high beam for a body
He died you ain't slide, you cried and hung his shirt up in the closet
That .55 don dada chopper on me, talkin' a bopper
It's loyalty and honor through whatever, know I got 'em
Avoidin' beef with shiners like they do not know who shot 'em
Won't be a problem, I drop this dope it don't sink to the bottom
Can't teach you how to beat the street the stress might kill yo' mama
He rep like he did something to me
Where's he we stretch his partner
He rep like he did something to me
Where's he we stretch his partner

And I'm just on the phone with Cada
And he prayin' I don't take long
Ride 'round with this K
I get to hummin' like it's Trey Songz
Opps be on my dick in songs
I give 'em somethin' to hate on
Slidin' all night long
You better have your pipe on you when you bump into me
Make no exceptions I wish death on all my enemies
In loving memory, I bet they gon' remember me
You better have your pipe on you when you bump into me

You should've bulletproofed that Trackhawk
Whole family cryin' they think it's my fault (yeah, forreal)
Partner called a body hit the bunk and went and jacked off (solid)
He don't want a bun, pay the lawyer he gon' beat it (we gon' beat it)
Smoke in the city, niggas know that I ain't sleepin' (shh)
I'm like sixty-five mil' up and still ain't put the steel up
Know this nigga bitch he know it too and he still actin' tough (yeah)
Take his ass to surgery, get that boy a tummy tuck
Better have your pipe when you see me, nigga you know what's up (forreal)
I got a different mindset (I do)
See my enemy still postin', I'm like "why he ain't die yet" (why he still here?)
I'm a different type of nigga (I am), you know you can't find that (forreal)
Gee my partner, he a boss, and you know you can't sign that, forreal

And I'm just on the phone with Cada
And he prayin' I don't take long
Ride 'round with this K
I get to hummin' like it's Trey Songz
Opps be on my dick in songs
I give 'em somethin' to hate on
Slidin' all night long
You better have your pipe on you when you bump into me
Make no exceptions I wish death on all my enemies
In loving memory, I bet they gon' remember me
You better have your pipe on you when you bump into me
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: George Stone III, Jeffrey Lynn Jones, Mario Mimms
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC




Capitol 1

Near a hunnid on my neck and my wrist, yeah, I'm a shiner
Wildin', gotta problem f*ckin' hoes without a condom (f*ckin' hoes without no rubber)
Hate her but I love it when I f*ck her, call me toxic (muah, muah)
Cold bottle of water then I'm boxin' with her tonsils (then I'm boxin' with her throat, yeah)
Percocet's and ZaZa, Wockhardt, not no Molly
It's gon' be a new dead body, a nigga try me (baow, baow)
We just spun for three hours straight and pulled over Donnie's (pulled up over Donnie's)
Niggas mad they partners keep gettin' turnt to exotic
Tryna show out when I f*ck her, I popped a Roxy
Street nigga grew up on Gotti, I rock Versaces (I rock Versaces)
City know I'm slimey, get 'em snaked by his partner (snaked by his nigga, yeah)
Yeah, you kept the backdoor closed but you ain't lock it
Goofy ain't have one in the head, I had to cock it
I'm a 5500 young shiner, that's how I'm rockin'
Santa to my safe, I be stuffin' it like a stocking (stuff it like a stocking)
I was mailin' tens from my migos and nem' out in Stockton (yeah, out in Stockton)
Big Gee, the capitol one, what's in your wallet? (What's in your wallet?)
I got thirty-forty thousand all blues, stuffed in my pocket (it started with the money)

Yeah, it started with the money, respect and now it's the power (money, power, respect, yeah)
I was knockin' bows before exotic, it was sour (yeah, it was Sour Dies')
My mama raised a whole lotta thangs but not a coward (never raised no ho, yeah)
I'ma get down on him broad day for disrespectin' ours (brrt-brrt-brrt-brrt)
Rental place buggin', I keep runnin' up them miles (I keep runnin' up them miles)
I can get it sold, I did like twenty bows a hour (twenty bows a hour)
A chemist, I can make a liquid, solid from a powder (solid from a powder)
It started with the money, respect and now it's the power

Yeah, it's crazy ain't too many things changed since I got famous
And every time a opp die, three new niggas replace 'em (yeah, yeah, yeah)
They give they gang a brand new name then they don't claim them
I remember when y'all slid through Riata ain't get to Rangeland
Just ask around the city, they gon' tell you that we dangerous
A gangster put that metal in your mouth like some braces
I make 'em come and get you for a ten, that's a bracelet
I made fifty grand sittin' on that home incarceration (yeah, that's a fact)
Just got home from a mission, I'm on the phone with Lil Baby (I'm on the phone with Baby)
He told me to stay focused, the trenches needed a savior
I told him that I'm tryin', he keepin' me motivated
But I'm still in all sliders with Zoeske, thirty and Kacey (it started in the money)

Yeah, it started with the money, respect and now it's the power (money, power, respect, yeah)
I was knockin' bows before exotic, it was sour (yeah, it was Sour Dies')
My mama raised a whole lotta thangs but not a coward (never raised no ho, yeah)
I'ma get down on him broad day for disrespectin' ours (brrt-brrt-brrt-brrt)
Rental place buggin', I keep runnin' up them miles (I keep runnin' up them miles)
I can get it sold, I did like twenty bows a hour (twenty bows a hour)
A chemist, I can make a liquid, solid from a powder (solid from a powder)
It started with the money, respect and now it's the power (yeah, it's the power)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: George Stone III, Hunter Brown, Joshua Luellen
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC




All I Know

Blrrrd, blrrrd
All I know is pop out on that
Bitch, we rock out on that
Pop out, put that metal to him
(Lucci, how you feel? Yeah)
All I know is
What we doin' Gee? (FOREVEROLLING)
(Lucci, how you feel?)

Yeah, they know they can't play us, niggas die they bring my name up
And please don't call my phone 'bout coppin' deuces, I'm gon' hang up
And I still'll get active with no mask, forget I'm famous
Niggas can't afford to get me killed no more, I got my change up
I ain't change up, I'm the same one who'll front the bag and sell it for 'em
He ain't had no way to get it back home, I'ma mail it for him (blrrrrd)
Red ain't get to brag 'bout all them missions, I'ma tell it for him (blrrrd, blrrrd)
Hatin' sayin' y'all chased him out that place, we had a present for him (blrrd, blrrrd, blrrrd, blrrrd)
Pop out, put that metal to him, think they sent like seven through him
Lot of niggas shot but ain't get dropped and I couldn't settle for it
Got new whips and spin some more, tinted rentals, spin some more
I can't speak on you on yours, but me and my gon' be for sure (blrrrd)

If you want war with us
Back applyin' pressure soon as they feel like we was easin' up
Chopper knock out lungs, he walk and talk but heard he breathe in puffs
All I know is bend that corner, hop out, ain't no freezin' up
All I know is I don't fear no nigga, all them bleed like us
All I know is niggas keep on dyin' and they believe it's us
All my lil' bro know is shoot his gun, he don't need no weed or nothin'
Know I feel his pain, I watched him change into a murderer (blrrrd, blrrrd)
Know you feel my pain, you watched me change into a murderer (blrrrd)

Any gun I took got less than two weeks 'fore we get it dirty
I'm a done fool by myself, it's DOA when I'm with 30
Two headshots gotta get off, know he can't make it through, we murked him (blrrrd, blrrrd)
We shiesty gang, we sendin' more hits, hang around, gotta be certi'
I put you on 'em, didn't get off, you could've told us you was nervous
Caught them bitches same day, gave 'em sixty, gettin' off on purpose
No, I ain't drop my deluxe yet 'cause I been busy soul searchin'
The youngest nigga who'll get you whacked, want seventy-five K for my verse
Keep it closed, niggas be fed, I can tell when niggas workin'
AM, I'm droppin' forty, I want him dead by 7:30
Long live Tee Da Pee, I'm f*ckin' every ho he had open
375 CGE ,havin' bankrolls, bodies, and motion
Bitches tried trailin', stopped and flip the car, I ain't goin' (blrrrd)
All my Glocks got a cable box, hit the blunt 'fore I get to blowin' (blrrrd, blrrd)
Dropped a four in Tahitian Treat, can't kick the cup, I'm always pourin'
My nigga Gee bang EST, pour some out, I'ma backdoor it
Blrrrd, blrrrd, blrrrd, blrrrd
Biggest Blrrrd, pussy
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: George Stone III, Jeffrey Lynn Jones Jr., Lontrell D. Williams, Ronnie O'Bannon
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC




Forreal

(Lucci, how you feel? Yeah)
(FOREVEROLLING)
(Lucci, how you feel?)

Niggas wanna be like me, they can't even drop they nuts for real
Shit got bad for team, they never came through in the clutch for real
Niggas dropped that change on me, I really ain't give a f*ck for real
Y'all niggas not tough for real, thuggin', it's a must I kill
I can quit today, but I don't think the game'd love me still
I tried everything to ease my pain, I don't think nothin' real
Ridin' with somethin' that spit 7.62s like it's from Summerhill
I won't leave no trace, put on my mask and gloves before I drill

I can't lose, I made a deal
Signed and sealed, I'm made for real
Gamblin' with my life, still tryna get high, I heard they makin' pills
Signed a deal and really made my livin', water whippin', keep the blender
I'm the realest, most these niggas out here not that
Ain't no rules, we can't find you, we hittin' where your bitch shop at
Bald hoes put they cap on for so long, turned to a top hat
Name one who been shot at, I'm really the big dog
Crack the window drivin', you'll get sick ridin' with that fentanyl
Sweatin', I'm havin' withdrawals, Lord, please take this pain from me
Wars be everything but free
Every time I came in town, I made sure somethin' get laid to sleep
Back then, on a dangerous street
Before I left the 'spital, made sure I got that pain back for me

Niggas wanna be like me, they can't even drop they nuts for real
Shit got bad for team, they never came through in the clutch for real
Niggas dropped that change on me, I really ain't give a f*ck for real
Y'all niggas not tough for real, thuggin', it's a must I kill
I can quit today, but I don't think the game'd love me still
I tried everything to ease my pain, I don't think nothin' real
Ridin' with somethin' that spit 7.62s like it's from Summerhill
I won't leave no trace, put on my mask and gloves before I drill

How you question me like I don't keep this shit in order?
You say it's love, then trap all day, but you ain't put nothin' on his lawyer
I'm enormous, money hoarder, known to get 'cross the border
Servin' water, drought made it eight a 'bow for us with no shortage
I run like Jordan, all of us get a portion playin' for EST
They feel like I owe 'em, I'ma show 'em if they play with me
I can't show no fake love, barely speak, I heard he hatin' on me
Me and Jairmy bought a pint for cheap, we drink an eight a piece
I know ain't no savin' me, headshot, think 'bout takin' me
They only wan' fake beef on IG, tryna get some fame from me
Actors, they need Oscars, I'm the dada from Riata Street
I trust Bapa to raise my sons up proper the day I D-I-E

Niggas wanna be like me, they can't even drop they nuts for real
Shit got bad for team, they never came through in the clutch for real
Niggas dropped that change on me, I really ain't give a f*ck for real
Y'all niggas not tough for real, thuggin', it's a must I kill
I can quit today, but I don't think the game'd love me still
I tried everything to ease my pain, I don't think nothin' real
Ridin' with somethin' that spit 7.62s like it's from Summerhill
I won't leave no trace, put on my mask and gloves before I drill, brrt
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: George Stone III, Jeffrey Lynn Jones Jr., Lucas Depante, Ronnie O'Bannon
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC




Real Reason

(Section 8 just straight cooked this motherf*cker up)

This the real reason why I think them niggas hatin' on me
I'm the one who make sure that that t-shirt get a face on it
I was servin' quarters, turned to fifteen, put an eight on it
You know I control my hood from Newburg Road to Naomi
I'm the one put platinum hits on opps, I put that Drac' on 'em
All them murders in my city, police put my face on 'em
My heart full of slime, so they know I'll snake a fake homie
They post me online just for insurance, they put the jakes on me

Once you cross that line, it's a short time before you fly
From the island, I throw fifty-five, Red Zone 'til I die
We face-to-face, you couldn't even look me in my eyes, nigga soft as pie
We load up and slide, wait 'til he come outside, show the sky
My whole life, I had it on my mind to make a million
I ain't need no nigga to help me wrap and send it, just my sealer
They scared of me, not scared for me, 'cause they know that I'm a thriller
Ain't no better feelin' hoppin' out that whip and chasin' niggas
Ain't no better feelin' thumbin' through that skrilla with some killers
It's like wakin' up and seein' the realest when you look in the mirror
This shit mimic gettin' that call from shippers sayin' it's delivered
Or gettin' that call from lil' bro spinnin' say he ain't miss him, that he finished
War ain't civil, better keep your pistol, I'ma make 'em miss you
Light a candle at the spot we hit you, teddy bears and pictures

This the real reason why I think them niggas hatin' on me
I'm the one who make sure that that t-shirt get a face on it
I was servin' quarters, turned to fifteen, put an eight on it
You know I control my hood from Newburg Road to Naomi
I'm the one put platinum hits on opps, I put that Drac' on 'em
All them murders in my city, police put my face on 'em
My heart full of slime, so they know I'll snake a fake homie
They post me online just for insurance, they put the jakes on me

You learn a lesson, I can teach you somethin', hope you see it comin'
Don't trust nothin', keep your yeek for comfort, they was screamin', woofin'
'Til I took a look, it wasn't nothin', sticks ain't shit unless you teach the drummer
We all move as one to keep our weakness covered
Nigga play, we dump 'em, now I wonder what make niggas flaw?
Why they wish me harm? When they switched, it ain't make me alarmed
7.62 park cars, I don't flinch 'cause I ain't scared at all
I only fear God, chopper lettin' off like round of applause
Turn you to a star, I been hurt, so I keep up my guard
Bein' this way got me far, before MacGyver died, he broke all of our hearts
DM big bro broad, he felt shame and he start backin' off
This just from us far, should've kept us close, they wet his car
Thought it hurt, but I side with my dog, Red been cut him off

Red been cut him off
Red had been cut him off, yeah
And that's the real reason why I think these niggas be hatin' on me
I'ma get him a t-shirt, get a face on it
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: George Stone, Rai Shaun Devante Williams
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.




No Friends

(FOREVERROLLING)

Still thuggin', I ain't let it change me
Realizin' rappers cool with bein' broke long as they famous
Meech told me I'm the greatest way before I signed a major
I wonder how my life would be, I ain't take that Jamaican
You get a chance to kill me, take it, miss, go meet your maker
Buy Yeekis and buy sliders, help my youngins up they rankin'
So rich, it might not feel good when we f*ck, but she still fake it
So stiff, I'm gettin' loaded daily, trauma got me anxious
My only true love for my sons, any extra they get
Our bond, they couldn't break it, it faded, still sing your praises
You the one knew me since a baby, I could feel you changin'
But give a f*ck less, nigga look at my success
You know you a bitch, keep worryin' 'bout me on that tough shit
Slick behind the wheel, we hit the window, I say, "Dump, spit"
We don't duck for cover, keep on bussin' 'til that gun click
Know you miss your brother, I'm tryna help you get to where he went

This the type of day they got me feelin' like the old Gotti
Just hopped out the Hellcat, ain't f*ckin' with no more exotic
Shootouts out the 'Rari, what CEO you know mobbin' with a Draco?
Maybe I ain't grow up 'cause my problems, I can't let go
Old shit still bother me, my past still huntin' me
Still havin' dreams 'bout the plug come and front me
Still havin' schemes 'bout runnin' off with a hunter
Niggas talkin' all this trap shit, when I really done it
Niggas pump-fake and they smoke shit when they don't want it
'Cause once you disrespect me and mines, you know we on it

My niggas move off of numbers like eight, twenty, a hunnid
I throw it deep, doggy gone, I'm ridin' right or he wrong
Put the gun up for what? Who the f*ck gon' slide for us?
Neff and Rob ain't die for nothin', I miss you, I miss you more
Who ain't up? Check the score, them boys been gettin' torched
Chopped somethin', then bend a corner, free them boys
I just made five hunnid, bitch, we them boys
One through six, another five comin' through, I'm yours
Lil' niggas lookin' up to the dope man
Got a couple bricks, started off with four grams
Gray been movin' cool, but doggy, we need more tan
Yeah, nigga, I been this turnt since '0-10
Ask a nigga why, why he never wrote Twin?

Uh, nigga dissed me, done been shot at, done been toe-tagged
Water dried up and I'm glad Moski bought the coke in
Thought he was a boss, then I noticed he got broke friends
Every load I got for us, nigga, I always broke bread
Sit it in the freezer, it get hard, you don't need no fan
Youngin' out the east can't spell his name, but he can throw fan
Flunkies die tryna be gang, I call it smokin'
Search for opps on every block, niggas ain't drop no pen
Young shiner, red zone dotter, I don't need no friends
F*ck you talkin' 'bout

You already know what's up, man
It's EST Gee
5500 the big general, man
Ayy, BMF and EST
Young Shiners for life
Bands up 'til my head gone, pussy
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Dion Hayes, George Stone III, Jeffrey Lynn Jones Jr., Mario Mimms, Shaun Jason Cooper
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC




Lick Back

Yeah
(FOREVERROLLING)
You niggas know y'all can't f*ck with me, nigga (yeah, yeah, yeah)
(Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

Throw the hood up and then we skrrt off
Slidin' in that Trackhawk, all my jewelry on, my shirt off
Turn the phone on DND, on silent, all alerts off
It's a fast car, but I'm movin' slow, I like my syrup raw
Every nigga 'round me shoot that yeek and get they merch off
I don't bark, I bite I got more paper than yo' big dawg
Wanna change yo' life? My best advice a brick of fentanyl
This bitch type is wife, I might just let the condom slip off
Ain't too many like me, ninety-nine percent of them rip offs
On point even at her spot I never take my kicks off
Ask my opps how it feel to wake up daily and get shit on
You get in yo' feelings and make diss songs
I make at yo' people's house, outside, shootin' that blick songs
And I'm still good on every block I used to knock P's on
Boss I get you chalked, my name ain't somethin' that you should speak on
Pulled out twenty somethin' just to let Johnny put my teeth on
My money ten feet tall, but I ain't something you should shoot at
Kill something, you wanna lock in with us I thought you knew that
My plug drove the load in on a truck, next day he flew back
I talk so much shit I need a Tic-Tac
I got five thousand for you, help me set this wolf trap
Started a new strain smokin' yo' man, this here a wolf pack
Up on the score, but we still active like we on get-back
Only thing gon' take that pain away is if you get racks
Forever get my lick back
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: George Stone III, Jeffrey Jones
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Songtrust Ave, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.




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