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started something (freestyle) - quilly lyrics

[verse 1: quilly]
let’s ball!
hypothetically speaking, practice what i’m preaching
all my b-tches foreign and my son’s half rican
the wave’ll turn a good girl bad, start tweakin’
f-ck me right now, i’m only here for the weekend
pockets full of nothing but green cuz i’m a vegan
n-gg-s’ don’t want no beef, they all vegan
i be in the streets with demons, all heathens
if it’s on sight where i catch him, i’ma leave him
book bag filled with blow; lance stephens
it’s always a n-gg- that’s clamin’ he not eatin’
do me one favor my n-gg-, stop breathin’
i give a b-tch d-ck and hope, stop reachin’
ballin’ so hard, you hear the screech from my sneakers
when it get cold, book flights, change seasons
wonder why n-gg-s’ is salty, quilly seasoned
hotter than a cayenne pepper with chilli season
wait, let me vent, i’m steal steaming
do it for the people that doubted and ain’t believe him
they want me upstate with browns, i ain’t from cleveland
i make the song cry, fill my pain, speakers bleeding
i lost n-gg-s’, my heart broke, i’m still grieving
i don’t owe a n-gg- a penny, we broke even
floatin’ in my inpala, thinkin’ bout my next dollar
i really want the wraith, but for now i’m in a squatter
do it for the times i trapped for a pair of pradas
i’m a dad, not a baby father
a big difference from a mother and a baby mamma
i see life through my third eye; illuminati
b-tches like “quilly hot but he too c-cky”
i hit you with the 08′ or the new shotty
my lil’ cousin 22, caught two bodies
i’m f-ckin b-tches, first 48, just caught a new body
i be smellin’ like creed, quilly the new rocky
rappers be catchin’ the bus, talkin bout bugattis
they tryna dress like me, f-ckin’ up pack money
i hit a lick last week, you think it’s rap money
young bol, i’ll make your ol’ head trap for me
in the trap spot, make your baby mom bag for me
i feel bad sellin’ crack to my community
that’s why i’m always giving back to the community
i get money round the clock, money keep clockin’
i pop percs, sip lean til’ my teeth rotten
my life’s like a motion picture, b-tch keep watchin’
i never ran out of money, so i keep shoppin’
keep plottin; eddy, i got the semi
good times, burn with the iron like penny
n-gg-, everything fendi, even my sheets
i threw some paper in atlanta, and got back in a week
then took a trip to bel-air, rest in peace uncle phil
my block poppin’ with gold tops like dru hill; sisqo
cookies like nabisco, let it turn to olive oil
came back crisco!

- quilly lyrics

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