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heavenly - louie ray lyrics

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[intro]
313 mafia
(yeah), yeah
okay
stupid dog, i ain’t gon’ lie, this b*tch hard
every time, yeah
i be feelin’ like* yeah, n*gga

[verse]
i be feelin’ like n*ggas ain’t really want me to win
here’s the b*tches who forgot about me on my d*ck again
n*ggas ain’t gon’ ride for they partners, how they scream
you look at the streets* yeah, okay
you look at the streets different when you saw ’em how i seen
trappin’ out the terrace, my apartment building clean
police know that we ain’t gon’* yeah (okay)
police know that we ain’t goin’, gotta k!ll us on the scene
gun too big for the shorts, i’m in some jeans (yeah)
long as it’s black or white, i saw me in a* ah!
long as it’s black or white, you prolly’ saw me in a tee
two warehouses to grow, like miami, all trees (trees)
i be cool by myself, leave me with the fiends
and the plug that ain’t runnin’ out of n*
and a plug that ain’t runnin’ out of nothin’ that i need
b*tch ain’t worth sh*t, i mean she nothin’ that i need
quit talkin’ ’bout your paper, quit comparin’ it to me
i ain’t a pimp, but if she got it, then she sharin’ it with me
my plane done took off, it ain’t no landin’ for me
our lives do matter, but who’s sayin’ it for me (huh?)
walkin’ out the trap, bag bustin’ full of beans (d*mn)
bustin’ out a sprinter, but was bustin’ out a sleeze
caught my dutches on the drank, these hoes judge how i lean
mug on my face, why i f*ck? ’cause her cat mean
blunt in my mouth, why i puff, this sh*t canotee
okay, i heard yo’ standards high as sh*t, but can you handle me?
(b*tch), yeah, n*gga, trip the volks*
i’ma trip the volkswagen out, give it wraith seats
push stars in this b*tch for when we can’t sleep
n*ggas prolly’ made a lil’ dough, but they ain’t make me
i know i’m sittin’ on a quarter*ounce, n*gga ‘waste these
if you somebody jealous of this sh*t, you finna hate me
told the b*tch to give me twenty minutes, only take three
stash box right under the clock, n*gga take beef
i done kept it real so long, you couldn’t fake me
four rings ‘one hand, but i played three
you the type to play it like you got it, but i play it cheap
if i got it, i’ma get us out of there, ’cause i don’t play sweet
trackhawk got her cat caught, this not the play, g
still out here in my hood, we don’t play like the celebrities
pick a n*gga up, like a ‘fro in the 70s
they always play the audio back, like it’s heavenly
still got 25 hoes, bill bellamy (okay)
cook a n*gga, or get the work cooked, it’s a specialty
[outro]
n*gga (n*gga)
yeah
stupid dog, i ain’t gon’ lie, this b*tch hard
cook a n*gga, or get the work cooked, it’s a specialty

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