new gospel - ryan skid lyrics
i’m still in this man
forever
[verse 1]:
uh, for the love of showboatin’
i traded friends that’s close just for top shelf toastin’
and you know i ain’t slowin’ ’til the cup is overflowin’
leeroy jenkins in this b-tch how i go in
gotta have it now or i’m done by 30
been sayin’ i flopped nah i been movin’ slow
and they been clownin’ that nissan i had in old videos
but ya hoe’s been up in it tho
draped in stella mccartney up in v live baby
never found his purpose and that’s why he hate me
i ain’t made it but it’s hard to tell lately
braxton made me tough now look what hip-hop made me
been quiet a while so they probably thought they got me
squares gon’ have to surround me on eight sides to stop me
my feet up on your couch, hand around your spouse
west by god man i’m a little hard to copy
‘cuz of where i’m from the whole game will call me white trash
but i cook the beat and then i give you boys whiplash
i don’t spend cash get top shelf from the owner
and i p-ss ’em back to every motherf-cker i came with
hustler of the year, whole squad up in here
and every year comin’ ’bout to be a long year
for you if you hatin’ on the greatest ever alive
this sh-t’s got me vibin’ like we back in ’05
we burned the m-ssacre on our blank cds
me and my day one g’s come through on atvs
i got the game in my palm i got your girl on her knees
dollars waitin’ on me to dot i’s and cross t’s
dawg please, i stand by your daughter or your niece
and i bet she start sweatin’ out her north face fleece
capisce? i keep it clean so my moms can be proud of
doubtin’ me’s a hole that you’ll never get out of
boy i’m clownin’, wylin’, with a girl that’s a list
winnin’ so big i’d put a smile on al davis
ya hoe fly to vegas, skiddy on her playlist
girls in lilly pulitzer still ask me if i’m famous
hoppin’ off stages dudes breakin’ down high grade
if i go broke i’ll take the heater in the rite aid
life where i’m from, hope’s as low as their luck
and i’m just another braxton county boy tryna come up
rollin’ with some gang-stars chasin’ m-ss appeal
after 3 rye in the gl-ss is filled
i give her -ss a feel you know my cash is real
that’s real low but i still smash the field
of all you f-ck boy rappers i give you new wounds to lick up
type of dude that chug a 40 in back of the pickup
type of dude that smiles in the middle of the stickup
everything you’ve ever done i do better when i hiccup
i make my own beats, i do my own videos
i do my own business you f-ck boys ain’t with this
stoppin’ now’s only way to get up off the hit list
and get to tell your grandkids that you got to witness
the young angel boy, the best life liver
you not on my level i can’t make it no clearer
ain’t gotta be serious i ain’t tryna boo you up
girl tweet me your address i come through and pick you up
holla
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