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Into The Sky Lyrics - Artist : Rittz
It's been
Five years in a row, I still won't quit Fuck the recognition people still don't give And the retro 8's with the strap unfastened And my shoestrings tucked to the Velcro strip I don't battle rap and I ain't on the shell toe tip Looking like I'm moving dope, but I don't sell no bricks Up inside the Regal, you can run and play The Seagulls See me leaning out the window with the elbow bent Try to bring a German Shepherd, they don't smell no scent Won't see no seeds, don't spill no stems Got a L-O-N-G beast in the streets CNT is a team it's a fellowship I ain't ever been to jail, I don't tell no fibs Any time they ever try me is a failed attempt I don't ever wanna catch a L, I win Bitches tryna find out what hotel I'm in I'll be better when, I'm finally off the road Any baggage, I'ma leave it with the bellhop Shell-shocked when I came home 'til I see a big check When I'm peeking in the mailbox 80 bags of [?] the stash that I had As I brag to my homie in the jailhouse I can help now, when you get out I'll be well off Haters say hell nah Bitch don't even try-y-y-y-y 'Cause that ain't gonna fly-y-y-y-y They say that I'm on fi-i-i-i-ire And I don't even li-i-i-i-ie I'ma look 'em in the eye, put a middle finger up Put a middle finger up, put a middle finger up Into the sky-y-y-y-y Put a middle finger up, put a middle finger up Into the sky-y-y-y-y Put a middle finger up, put a middle finger up Into the sky-y-y-y-y Put a middle finger up, put a middle finger up into the sky Some of y'all might hate this cadence Mad 'cause obtained the taste sensation Starving like all I ever ate was Ramen Your favorite entertainer okay with stagin' Ballin' when they having trouble making payments Thought that they could draw, but they were tracing faces People that you place your faith in are faking Like alien invasions, lasers, ray guns Brag about your money and your company If someone doesn't want it, they be jumping like a bullfrog Now you gotta prove all the shit that you was talking You a poodle in a saloon full of bulldogs Got a dot on your head from the blue chalk On the cue ball, in the pool hall No reality show when you leave Fulton County You ain't calling no shots like Too Tall Hit you when they pull off Now the family gotta tell 'em too-da-loo All that I can say is c'est la vie True, I got a little loot I try not to rub it in they face when I make my cheese A few times I done seen a few guys showing they cahoonas Thinking they was paid like me Pull up in a new car, you ain't got no money in the bank like me So Bitch don't even try-y-y-y-y 'Cause that ain't gonna fly-y-y-y-y They say that I'm on fi-i-i-i-ire And I don't even li-i-i-i-ie I'ma look 'em in the eye, put a middle finger up Put a middle finger up, put a middle finger up Into the sky-y-y-y-y Put a middle finger up, put a middle finger up Into the sky-y-y-y-y Put a middle finger up, put a middle finger up Into the sky-y-y-y-y Put a middle finger up, put a middle finger up into the sky |
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