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flour city 2 - 38 spesh lyrics

[verse 1: eto]
yo, ayo, ayo on god, mom talk money, she fix french toast
then she stresses me to fill in for those who went ghost
stress, broke, she stresses after me too
with her cheap shoe, broke dudes have to be cude
we gotta eat well, laugh often
a glasshouse or a glass coffin
you talk money, i’ll have your cash talking
it’s back on, i gotta back off it
’cause my son is no longer and his dad lost it
it’s just me and you now, for you, i’ll buy you happiness
love seeing you smile
you kept the grass cut for your friend, he weeded you out
remember i took em in and let em sleep on the couch?
i should k!ll him, i’ll leave em in your hands
but he’ll never take another seat in the tour van
another one opens after the door slams
trust your devotion, just ask where that wh0re stands
yo, we don’t need her to know
you be in the studio, she wants the speakers to blow
don’t worry godson ’cause we on the go
all we need is a month and a week to grow
we’ll talk tomorrow, soon as the pack land (pack land)
i know them guys like my backhand (let’s go!)
2 o’clock, just come, don’t call me
you know i run the whole army

[verse 2: 38 spesh]
ayo! i talk different, from wrong picture
lifting weight, doing construction in the kitchen, i’m forklifting
i’m day*dreaming about forbes listing
talk business, having walks outside, i think the walls’ listening
it’s hard when your dog is snitching
cut em off, it’s funny how the wrong words get you a long sentence
n*ggas is loving the wrong b*tches
i f*ck em and getaway, our relationship long distance
all of my boys getting rich, enjoying benefits
you gotta get a brick to join the membership
broke bread with loyal nemesis
percentages go to lawyers that help me avoid sentences
now we’re all on businesses
shout out to the og’s and loyal women i was in the trenches with
n*ggas know i’m all militant
employ these boys for decoys to come destroy villages
used to collect ants in a red benz
i set trends, take one bird and stretch twins
f*ck you and your dead friends
put weight on your head, as light as a feather
now y’all the redskins
n*gga, i’m trying to bread win
twenty shots, she get fed ten bullets gon’ make his head spin
he was drunk, so he bled thin
he a snake, this big gun on my waist gon’ make him shed skin
trust!

- 38 spesh lyrics

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