All this shit that I gotta do f*ck what I wanna do, boss up
I made your weeks worth of pay in a day motherf*cker get ya cost up
Hitting licks, talking shit pussy boy well you already lost us
See you doing well so they wanna try and cross ya
I'm just blowing smoke out the window like a Rasta
All this sauce on me got me looking like some pasta
I got your girl getting faded in mi casa
Do not disturb, but she calls me big papa
Got me speaking Spanish, I might even do the salsa
All this on my neck so it's kinda hard to watch ya
Drinking scotch on the rocks tryna get the box ya
Catch me in Atlanta court-side at the Hawks yeah
Court-side with Meghan Fox ya
F*ck real life, I'm living in a fantasy
Soon as I make it I'm putting on my family
It's not my fault you're driving in a Camry
They see me getting bread so they jelly just tryna jam me, uh
But it's time bitch, I'm waking up same time they close the blinds bitch
Said I was the man when I was nine bitch
That shirts too tight wear something that's your size bitch, ah ah
But on a high note
I fly by most, f*ck it what do I know
Propane on my deck, Blue Rhino
And every single one of my boys pyro
Maniac got killers like I was a dope dealer
Pull up to my house tryna see me go gorilla
Got me walking like I'm dead Michael Jackson, Thriller
Murdering the beat courtesy of Bryson Tiller
My way, my way let em know we do it my way
Hit the high way side ways like why wait
Why waste? I arrived late so hydrate
Shit's getting scary like the 13th Friday
That's real shit, never sold a brick but I can deal hits
Feel this, never had a job you just steal shit
Hit a lick, come up real quick
Tryna find a meal tick, say you need a real bitch
Real ass, real lips, yeah real fast
First thing's first boy get yourself some real cash
Ha ha
I'm just laughing on the track
Thought I took an L, but I made it right back
Broke boys ain't shit, I'ma say it like that
They'll get what's coming to them I ain't gotta fight back
Either dead or in jail, tell the judge indict that
Tough guys for life but they wouldn't like that, yeah
J/G - My Way Lyrics
J/G - My Way Lyrics
We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
All this shit that I gotta do f*ck what I wanna do, boss up
I made your weeks worth of pay in a day motherf*cker get ya cost up
Hitting licks, talking shit pussy boy well you already lost us
See you doing well so they wanna try and cross ya
I'm just blowing smoke out the window like a Rasta
All this sauce on me got me looking like some pasta
I got your girl getting faded in mi casa
Do not disturb, but she calls me big papa
Got me speaking Spanish, I might even do the salsa
All this on my neck so it's kinda hard to watch ya
Drinking scotch on the rocks tryna get the box ya
Catch me in Atlanta court-side at the Hawks yeah
Court-side with Meghan Fox ya
F*ck real life, I'm living in a fantasy
Soon as I make it I'm putting on my family
It's not my fault you're driving in a Camry
They see me getting bread so they jelly just tryna jam me, uh
But it's time bitch, I'm waking up same time they close the blinds bitch
Said I was the man when I was nine bitch
That shirts too tight wear something that's your size bitch, ah ah
But on a high note
I fly by most, f*ck it what do I know
Propane on my deck, Blue Rhino
And every single one of my boys pyro
Maniac got killers like I was a dope dealer
Pull up to my house tryna see me go gorilla
Got me walking like I'm dead Michael Jackson, Thriller
Murdering the beat courtesy of Bryson Tiller
My way, my way let em know we do it my way
Hit the high way side ways like why wait
Why waste? I arrived late so hydrate
Shit's getting scary like the 13th Friday
That's real shit, never sold a brick but I can deal hits
Feel this, never had a job you just steal shit
Hit a lick, come up real quick
Tryna find a meal tick, say you need a real bitch
Real ass, real lips, yeah real fast
First thing's first boy get yourself some real cash
Ha ha
I'm just laughing on the track
Thought I took an L, but I made it right back
Broke boys ain't shit, I'ma say it like that
They'll get what's coming to them I ain't gotta fight back
Either dead or in jail, tell the judge indict that
Tough guys for life but they wouldn't like that, yeah
I made your weeks worth of pay in a day motherf*cker get ya cost up
Hitting licks, talking shit pussy boy well you already lost us
See you doing well so they wanna try and cross ya
I'm just blowing smoke out the window like a Rasta
All this sauce on me got me looking like some pasta
I got your girl getting faded in mi casa
Do not disturb, but she calls me big papa
Got me speaking Spanish, I might even do the salsa
All this on my neck so it's kinda hard to watch ya
Drinking scotch on the rocks tryna get the box ya
Catch me in Atlanta court-side at the Hawks yeah
Court-side with Meghan Fox ya
F*ck real life, I'm living in a fantasy
Soon as I make it I'm putting on my family
It's not my fault you're driving in a Camry
They see me getting bread so they jelly just tryna jam me, uh
But it's time bitch, I'm waking up same time they close the blinds bitch
Said I was the man when I was nine bitch
That shirts too tight wear something that's your size bitch, ah ah
But on a high note
I fly by most, f*ck it what do I know
Propane on my deck, Blue Rhino
And every single one of my boys pyro
Maniac got killers like I was a dope dealer
Pull up to my house tryna see me go gorilla
Got me walking like I'm dead Michael Jackson, Thriller
Murdering the beat courtesy of Bryson Tiller
My way, my way let em know we do it my way
Hit the high way side ways like why wait
Why waste? I arrived late so hydrate
Shit's getting scary like the 13th Friday
That's real shit, never sold a brick but I can deal hits
Feel this, never had a job you just steal shit
Hit a lick, come up real quick
Tryna find a meal tick, say you need a real bitch
Real ass, real lips, yeah real fast
First thing's first boy get yourself some real cash
Ha ha
I'm just laughing on the track
Thought I took an L, but I made it right back
Broke boys ain't shit, I'ma say it like that
They'll get what's coming to them I ain't gotta fight back
Either dead or in jail, tell the judge indict that
Tough guys for life but they wouldn't like that, yeah
Writer: Jared Graf, Monty Dale
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid