glass shoppin' - willie the kid & v don lyrics
[intro: willie the kid]
broken glass
uh
half a mil in the stash
tcp
[verse 1: willie the kid]
you never know who the trader stock tips
trade winds in the tropics, a trader joe’s run
double parking the drop six, the weather changing
i’m reevaluating the places i’m hanging
they crucifying all the messengers, hang ’em high
i’m occupied with survival, the best n*ggas die
leave a legacy unfulfilled, a heavy burden
i guess you never seen the other side of the curtain
where thе serpents disappear, it appеars safe
deceptive misplaced, trust a commonplace
a commoner but the car foreign, a stand*up guy
it’s ironic i’m encoring
smooth as a commodore, the most iconic
never been for play, play
mayday cuz’ malays awaits you in ya heyday
n*ggas wait to you way up to pull you down
a cliff hanger but i bl!ck bangers, compressors
you won’t hear a sound
present danger, don’t talk to strangers
walk in closet, marble hangers
count the money ’til it’s carpel tunnel
n*ggas go broke then get humble
stumbling on karma
they legalized weed in michigan, become a farmer
from ball street to wall street, the modern saga
dearly beloved
gotta love it
[verse 2: vado]
all i think is money, cocaine
when that flame hit the kettle
got a lotta lames in this game man, i tell you
try to maintain, keep ya name from the devil
and stay on the pedal, no way i’m a settle
or ever call it quit, lit chain and a bezel
hit a lot of chicks before the fame and i’m special
you was on my d*ck when i came in the shuttle
when you do dirt, the only thing you gain is a shovel
a hundred grams i made with a couple bands
then came with another plan, got money my other man
cashier’s and tellers, i tell ya, i’ve done the scams
crack in my underpants, hoping you understand
fresh from jamaica, now a moneymaker
manhattan like what’s happening, point me to the paper
life a b*tch, you can’t escape her when you need a favor
plottin’ on another caper where the l!ck is major
in all black, dressed for combat
rob the diamond district yelling: “give me all that”
put it on ya head, no ballcap
shooters laying on your stoop near your doormat
fill up the duffel, then we outta there
cops come while we runnin’ like f*ck outta here
throw the uzi, hit the movies
change the outerwear
then we disapear in times square without a fear
vado
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