Death B4 Dishonor
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Lyrics
You just touched a hunnid
Bitch where I'm from we call that maintainin'
40 thousand in my pocket came from 'caine slangin'
I'm slidin' through the trenches where the J's hangin'
Bitch swang my door open, see my chain swangin'
Upgrade your whole kit, that's called game changin'
Migo nicknamin' everybody, cuz that's called gang bangin'
Money talkin', tell me baby if you speak the same language
I seen my patna on the block, I told him stay dangerous
Half-steppin', grab the drac and leave 'em bloody, face-painted
Hood niggas in a meeting, you see Cudi drank-tainin'
Real hustler put in work, you want a Bentley or a Honda
My nigga got jammed, he yellin' death before dishonor
I done sold dope and changed ties for the Prada
I went from Pay Less to double F's on the collar
I went from outlets and [?] to Ball Harbor
Where I'm from, you got a choice: you die broke or ball harder
Ay, you either pickin' up the peas, shooting threes or the Glock
You throwin' up the C's, cause you bangin' the block
Migo said he call me blood, cause he flamin' it hot
Blocked in with the streets, cause they knowin' what I got
I'm also locked in, cause they knowin' what I'm not
I ain't never been a hoe, ah nigga or a peon
Triple D nigga, white tee and some Deion's
Only thing I'm good at is gettin' money
(Ok, we really came from nothin', all we do is count up, nigga)
I don't have to do nun' though
(You know what I'm sayin', you look at my wrist
This shit 40 thousand and up)
I know everything, but I know one thing
(100 thousand, 200 thousand)
Checkin' the trap, all the time, every day
(Walkin' round, 60 thousand dollar chain, big ass pendant
Big ass wrist, big ass everything, you know)
(Ever since I was a kid, I seen my OG and I always knew, you know
I never wanted to...)
My wrist out the window (...have a job, or
Have somebody tell me I had to go this way or that way)
Don't call us 'bout no hits unless you got more than a dub
Ain't never drunk no coffee, nigga this wock inside the mud
I got dimes inside the V.I.P., they flockin' in the club
Double S chain got three emerald cuts, I'm a walkin' bathtub
Trap ain't dead, these niggas scared, my brother fucked the stove up
I'm in Queens eatin' chop cheese with a dirty pole tucked
You ain't never seen a switch, or at least equip one
You ain't never cracked no seal on a pint and sip one
We got bitches at the top floor, let 'em do they big one
Keep my mouth zipped, I get 'em dipped for Rick Owens
Yeah, I'm at the top floor, it smell like dope and Tom Ford
Yuh, back then I did some shit just to get some Concords
Yuh, [?] with the [?], now that bitch sound like a lawnmower
Took a risk to bring them bags back, I'm a weed connoisseur
We done sold the nigga a bad batch, and he still need more
I got diamonds in my teeth, I need a VVS fork
I got killers trailin' me, don't need no police escort
Hit the Yams and drop some red on Miami Heat court
I got diamonds goopin' off me, nigga my shoulder got warts
Put that money where your mouth is, I ain't goin' back and forth
(Mixin' the old money with the new money)
(Biggest of the biggest, nigga)
(Look at your contract, we'll buy you out that bitch)