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r2 - pasto flocco lyrics

[intro: pasto flocco]
(surf gang, b*tch)
(ayo, j6, turn that up)
uh, uh, uh, uh, uh

[chorus: pasto flocco]
life ain’t a game for me, n*gga, but maybe for you
if i call up my shooter, he spamming r2
opp in the morning, we waking up early, we spinning right now, we ain’t spinning at two
walk with that sprayground, you know ain’t no books in the bag, you know that i’m keeping that tool
all my old friends, they mad at me ’cause i got up like i stepped on a stool
n*ggas on snapchat saying they proud of me, n*ggas ain’t said nothing to me in school
i know my teachers is proud of me, lil’ black n*gga who always would talk
we finna run in his pockets, we taking that sh*t, piece of bacon, that boy a piece of pork
i had to hop on a drill beat, show these lil’ n*ggas how we do that sh*t in new york
n*ggas, they found out new york had the sauce when they heard that big pop smoke
b*tch, i feel like sb in them carti’s, you know when i got ’em on, i wanna talk
shoot up the party, i’m leaving that sh*t like a quarantine, one false move, that boy gotta go

[verse: 22gz]
youngest in charge, pulling they cards, walk up, slide in the car
we catch him walking, bet he regret all that sh*t he was talking
tryna go against me, that’s a forfeit, these vv’s on faucet
22 the king of new york, b*tch, so much louis, i need an endors*m*nt
if i call up my stepper, he knocked out his shoes
my diamonds, they dancing, he reaching, i’m back on the news
if i use the revolver, they won’t have a clue
pick a side, ain’t no playing the middle so you better choose
they gon’ do it for free, i ain’t paying no shooters
she said she tryna eat, threw that b*tch in an uber
screaming out jugg like that n*gga scooter
she give māthā, brain like a tutor
[chorus: pasto flocco]
life ain’t a game for me, n*gga, but maybe for you
if i call up my shooter, he spamming r2
opp in the morning, we waking up early, we spinning right now, we ain’t spinning at two
walk with that sprayground, you know ain’t no books in the bag, you know that i’m keeping that tool
all my old friends, they mad at me ’cause i got up like i stepped on a stool
n*ggas on snapchat saying they proud of me, n*ggas ain’t said nothing to me in school
i know my teachers is proud of me, lil’ black n*gga who always would talk
we finna run in his pockets, we taking that sh*t, piece of bacon, that boy a piece of pork
i had to hop on a drill beat, show these lil’ n*ggas how we do that sh*t in new york
n*ggas, they found out new york had the sauce when they heard that big pop smoke
b*tch, i feel like sb in them carti’s, you know when i got ’em on, i wanna talk
shoot up the party, i’m leaving that sh*t like a quarantine, one false move, that boy gotta go

- pasto flocco lyrics

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