Messenger Video (MV)

Please do not disturb the hustle
I hear barks, where's your muzzle
Your mouth's the f*cking struggle
Soul-ties compromised
By niggas playing puzzles
Cold eyes on the rise
I call it Game of Knuckles
I should've never trusted you
You flex muscles
But, inner demons they chuckle
Under pressure you buckle
Popped bubbles, you trouble
From fossil shit that you shovel
Neglect the hustle for brussels
Get gold with brass knuckles
I'm a lout bout my hustle
Molly popping them pills
Say she loves me like a Stan
Had to cut that bitch off
Thinking about my future band
Vacations in the sand
2 Kids
Yup! That's the plan
Man, really need a woe man
Hold him down to the end
Never stress ya

You should shoot your messenger
For the shit they been telling ya
I ain't with it
The crib is where we pressing ya
If we ever addressing ya

You should shoot your messenger
For the shit they been telling ya
I ain't with it
The crib is where we pressing ya
If we ever addressing ya

Sunday to Sunday
I sit back and do me Nigga
Sunday to Sunday
You sit there in misery Nigga
Sunday to Sunday
Cashing checks from over seas Nigga
Sunday to Sunday
Tidal waves you couldn't see Nigga
When coins flip
You really flip the script my nigga
I'll pull the trigger
I really am a Jigger Nigga
I see ya figure
Them dollars make you flip my nigga
You seem them figures
Them shadows get you clipped my nigga
Cutting like a Sza
Supermodel-ish figure
Take one look in the mirror
See the shimmer is where we differ
Turning backs on me nigga
Get turned in to salt pillars
Give you that restart
I am flooding your rivers
One call to my nigga
Well make ya block quiver
T. Clancy with the Splinter
T. Ford yea imma spender
The wrist making me shiver
Clear blocks like it was winter
The liq warming my liver
Black Label, yea imma sipper
Lane Switcher
Peddle to the floor, grain gripper
Zigga Zigga, who got the keys to my bimmer
You my nigga? Or not
Never known to flip flop
Salt bitches can kick rocks
Their time's on tic toc
Never known to stop, watch
You Twelve, I'm top notch
From Dade, don't get rocked
Or boxed hopscotch
Get nicked, a bad botch
Just bagged a bad thot
Her pussy food for thought
You think I'm pussy, get popped
Never stressing ya

You should shoot your messenger
For the shit they been telling ya
I ain't with it
The crib is where we pressing ya
If we ever addressing ya

You should shoot your messenger
For the shit they been telling ya
I ain't with it
The crib is where we pressing ya
If we ever addressing ya