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wide body - enphamus lyrics

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[part i]

[verse:]
sometimes i wanna’ quit, but gang tell me, “keep goin’, you go 7*30”
i got a bag, it been a minute since a b*tch done curved me
i keep a gen. and be alert, but i ain’t never worried
[?] and n*ggas pulled up twenty*deep so he could serve me
i seen my baby heartbeat, i wish my n*gga had one
it ain’t no love in these streets, so i keep me a handgun
we up the sco’ and hit one wit’ a [?], call that a and1
we ride wit’ switches, you can’t blame me, i’m my grandma’s grandson
load up the box wit’ seven smackers, they gon’ get thе job done
b*tch where i’m from, you chеck the mail, come back, yo’ f*ckin’ car gone
been outside for a week, i’m feelin’ weak, been servin’ this strong
he hit me for a feat’, i heard he sweet, can’t get on his song
i serve whoever, that mean preachers, teachers, kids, and deacons
paid my tithes from every juug, this life ain’t fit for mr. mingles
twenty years just from one of these guns, so i pray god’ll keep me
get his drop then pop up like a quiz, like i could teach detention
i been losin’ weight, could starve myself, i still’ll be the biggest
i’m evolvin’, i got in my bank wit’ ‘posits in these [?]
not arthritis, not even apd is stoppin’ me from business
seen my baby face and that’s exactly what stopped me from sinn**

[part ii]
[verse:]
look at that wide*body n*gga in a wide*body
you ain’t seen me push up wit’ ‘dat smoke, you wasn’t outside probably
rich, but shawty never pull it out, so i just side*eye ’em
orange crush, a n*gga play, a d.o.a. on tybee island
four*deep in a jeep ridin’, ridin’ wit’ some sh*t’ll spook the army
gang put so much sh*t under the ground, they had to move the farmer
rob ‘im for his juice, he would’ve lived if he had body armor
f*ck a hat ’cause i’m wit’ real k!llers who was paid in [?]
can’t go up on the ‘gram ’cause they report and try to get me banned
wanna’ post these f*ckin’ switches, but that sh*t might get me jammed
i was taught to shop whoever shoppin’, show my other hand
had to cool out on that hot sh*t, that’s what got my brother jammed
how is that yo’ block when we ain’t seen you on that b*tch in months?
always was a stud, i been a dog, you n*ggas f*ckin’ runtz
i done hit the baddest, cannot one say i done f*ckin’ munched
fat n*gga, who picky? i be careful who i choose to hunt
f*f*follow her an hour back, already in her close friends
like “pull up to the ‘yo, leave all the bougie, bring yo’ hoe friends”
before i made a hit, my part*time job was mr. dope*man
they offer me a hunnid’, told ’em, “nah, i need some more bands”

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