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gotta make it - syk lyrics

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gotta make it
ya
pull up pull up
ya
pull up pull up pull up
ya gotta

gotta put it work d*mn gotta make it
that mean in my life i ain’t gotta work
you can say i’m half way cause i’m faking
living like i know where i gotta go
i got an idea how things gonna be
going broke, spent two hundred on a f*cking beat
two other hundred blown up just to buy the weed
no real gold man i gotta wear my smokey rings

i’m so tired i’m just getting tired
it was patience time now it’s mortal fire
i don’t pull out the nine
sh*t i ain’t a liar
i pull out the fourth line to bring new thing yea
you can say i’m the new king
trappers be like houston
sh*t we got a problem with the wood man
holla, drink, sip one of that bourbon bеam
cup of hennessy
wanna shut my mind, your strong tequila plеase
gotta put it work d*mn gotta make it
that mean in my life i ain’t gotta work
you can say i’m half way cause i’m faking
living like i know where i gotta go
i got an idea how things gonna be
goin broke, spent two hundred on a f*ckin beat
two other hundred blown up just to buy the weed
no real gold man i gotta wear my smokey rings
i just got some smokey rings

had a dream i was wearing thousand dollar jeans, jinn
now i got my own and they’re ok
but you ain’t sh*t if you ain’t wearing dope sh*t
i was told hide your money right inside the pillow
slanged for a couple years never bought a kilo
hardly made a loot but was feelin a hero
taught my ass how to deal when it’s time to get em
now i’m working and i’m trapping hard
reverse counting ’til the day i become a star
reverse counting checkin on my master card
feel like i’m running out all my life bar
and i say
gotta put it work
d*mn gotta make it
that mean in my life i ain’t gotta work
you can say i’m half way cause i’m fakin
living like i know where i gotta
yaya
gotta put it work d*mn gotta make it
that mean in my life i ain’t gotta work
you can say i’m halfway ’cause i’m faking
living like i know where i gotta go
i got an idea how things gonna be
goin broke, spent two hunnid on a f*ckin beat
two other hundred blown up just to buy the weed
no real gold man i gotta wear my smokey rings

smokey rings
and it’s all a dream
ye yeeee got em, got em, gotta make it
gotta make it
i gotta make it
i gotta make it
ye

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