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self employed - lil keed lyrics

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[intro]
grim, this sh*t hard as f*ck
(grimlin)
grim got this sh*t poppin’ (yeah)
slatt (slatt)

[chorus]
yeah, come through lookin’ like the money
these chains on my neck real water like tsunami
red dark dior shades and i ain’t see these b*tches comin’
big drum on a stick, yeah, i’m lookin’ like the drumline
catch us in the yard, you cannot cross this gunline
yeah, you know that i’m on my grind
yeah, i’m self paid, self*employed
i gotta get paid, homie, i gotta get paid
[verse 1]
i ain’t worry ’bout gettin’ laid, i f*ck b*tches every day
i pour up this codeine every day
i throw them dices, take a gamble any day
four, five, six, big six, big trips, i’m gettin’ paid
white paint, blue stripes, red guts, star*spangled bangin’ it
stars on my pants and they ‘miri, y’all n*ggas can’t play with me (‘miri)
these n*ggas talkin’ on instagram, they really scared of me (they p*ssy)
i would’ve had mexico chop your head off and bring it back to me
so y’all n*ggas so lucky (you lucky)
yeah, you know i f*cked your ho, so i know why you muggin’
yeah, that throat was super deep and that p*ssy was bustin’ (i’m tellin’ you)
tryna make money while i’m sleep, yeah, that’s my type of hustle (sh*t)

[chorus]
yeah, come through lookin’ like the money
these chains on my neck real water like tsunami
red dark dior shades and i ain’t see these b*tches comin’
big drum on a stick, yeah, i’m lookin’ like the drumline
catch us in the yard, you cannot cross this gunline
yeah, you know that i’m on my grind
yeah, i’m self paid, self*employed
i gotta get paid, homie, i gotta get paid

[verse 2]
yeah, my old school got racing tires, it’s american muscle (american muscle)
i ran this water by g diamonds, that’s my motherf*ckin’ brother
yeah, vonte hit my phone, told me, “keep on the hustle”
yeah, long live t*shyne, he whip that car like no other (long live t*shyne)
i can’t f*ck with y’all lil’ n*ggas, it’s just my pride or somethin’ (pride or somethin’)
if you ever see me in blaze, just know i’m packin’ a gun
and i ain’t lackin’ for nothin’
me and all these strippers lockin’ eyes ’cause they lookin’ for money
i’m a soldier in these streets and i swear that i’m gunnin’
ain’t gotta act gangster with you, know i get you a goner
yeah, these figures, they quadruplin’, i ain’t got no diploma
tell my teacher, “would you look at that?”
i remember sittin’ in the back
slatt
[chorus]
yeah, come through lookin’ like the money
these chains on my neck real water like tsunami
red dark dior shades and i ain’t see these b*tches comin’
big drum on a stick, yeah, i’m lookin’ like the drumline
catch us in the yard, you cannot cross this gunline
yeah, you know that i’m on my grind
yeah, i’m self paid, self*employed
i gotta get paid, homie, i gotta get paid

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