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daytona - g.t. lyrics

[intro: g.t.]
this pain on me
there it go, yeah
(ron*ron load it up, ron*ron load it up)
ron*ron, what up?
real, ayy

[verse 1: g.t.]
how i stay sane with all this pain on me?
how i stay sane with all this pain on me?
how i still love you and you changed on me?
i was waitin’ on the bag, you ain’t wait on me
i was runnin’ out of gas with my tank on e
i was runnin’ out of cash, couldn’t get a bite to eat
when you out here in these streets, n*gga, this ain’t for the weak
lost granny nineteen, wish i could kiss her on her cheek
wan just did a ten, he got out, ain’t miss a beat
ridin’ ’round in a benz, gettin’ massaged by the seat
lil’ n*gga say they shoppin’, why they ain’t got ’em no receipts?
i’m in cali while i’m coppin’, ron*ron on the bеat
how i know who really poppin’, ’cause we always main topic
for thе watch, i left it plain, for the chain, i got it rocky
n*ggas out here cappin’, they ain’t really movin’ things
louis hoodie, louis shoes, also saint laurent jeans
[chorus: g.t.]
i’m really havin’ motion, they ain’t havin’ motion
mix it, mix the cuban link up with the diamond choker
i bounced right back after them n*ggas thought this sh*t was over
talkin’ to this chicken, it feel like i’m here with soda
they don’t wanna cop that sh*t ’cause it got too much soda
when they cop that sh*t from us, they ’bout to take sh*t over
when you flyin’ with that bag, get a layover
i’m ’bout to go drop sixty racks on a daytona, ayy

[verse 2: mack nickels]
conversation little different when they know your cheese up (when sh*t like spanish)
n*ggas get they first watch and keep rollin’ they sleeves up (i don’t wanna see it)
n*ggas talkin’ daytonas, they ain’t got no paul newmans (at all)
off the o’s, watch my wrist dance, no krush groovin’ (turbo)
every b*tch i love is bustdown, my point is proven (on god)
the whole city feel i’m winnin’, but i feel i’m losin’ (said i’m losin’ still)
i’m never on the scene, but these hoes choosin’ (i don’t need y’all)
even when i’m standin’ still, a n*gga bag movin’ (sh*t, i’m through)
n*gga fly with a bag and get a layover (not me)
the last day party, think i wore a range rover
bums started wearin’ creed, then it gave me hives (i hate it)
a lot of n*ggas look different when they rappin’ lies, yeah (lot of n*ggas)

[chorus: g.t.]
i’m really havin’ motion, they ain’t havin’ motion
mix it, mix the cuban link up with the diamond choker
i bounced right back after them n*ggas thought this sh*t was over
talkin’ to this chicken, it feel like i’m here with soda
they don’t wanna cop that sh*t ’cause it got too much soda
when they cop that sh*t from us, they ’bout to take sh*t over
when you flyin’ with that bag, get a layover
i’m ’bout to go drop sixty racks on a daytona, ayy

- g t lyrics

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