1swagout, minok0, starry (@starrynn), stylas & cr1sis - options lyrics
[intro]
(cr1sis)
yeah, yeah, go
(ryn)
yeah, yeah, go
(swagout)
[verse 1: minok0]
(yeah) talkin’ ’bout some bread, th+they don’t know wassup
i got stylas in the back and we goin’ up (go)
and your brodie eatin’ bullets like he goin’ dumb (y+yuh)
keep on talkin’ on the net, i+i don’t give no f+cks
(nahhh) walk out that b+tch wit’ a bag
glock in my pants and it’s makin’ it sag
swerve in that b+tch and i crash
hop out the whip and i’m makin’ the dash
(yea+yeahh) i+i got too much drugs a+all up in my lungs, b+but it’s not enough (uh+uh, yeah)
[verse 2: ryn]
talking ’bout bread, what you want? no b+tch, i ain’t never stopping
gas in my lungs, b+tch, you know that i got options
twenty bands in a month, perky on my tongue, i pop it
i’m too advanced for this bunch, i leave them down, i never spot them
talking ’bout money n’ talking ’bout bags but
b+tch, you get jealous when you see my racks now
talking your sh+t till you get a reaction
counting my bands like a motherf+ckin’ math test
f+ck up my vision, i don’t know what’s happening
bullets fly at you, i feel like you’re dancing
stealing my cadence, you steal the whole package
i’m going up, b+tch, i got all this leverage
(huh, uh) i got these jewels on my waist
got margiela on my shoulders, b+tch, you never getting paid
when i pull up to the function, all those heads turning my way
oh b+tch, i’m swagged out in this hoe, you know we never make mistakes
walk up in that b+tch, put that brother in a ditch
(uh) whatchu know ’bout this? pull up, make the function lit
on the mic, i’m making hits, swagout, b+tch, we never quit
(uh) roley make the fit, b+tch, i’m in my element
[verse 3: stylas]
give a f+ck how ’bout i said it, uh, i spend it, don’t count it, uh
(heh) i mop that boy up, i feel like a f+ckin’ janitor
(yeah) i pop that bean, i don’t know where the f+ck i ended up
i don’t f+ck wit’ math until it comes to f+ckin’ addin’ up
yeah, i know that, pull up wearin’ all black
i could drop like three bags, i been gone, i’m so back
made a rack up in day, hit the bank, i need that
i can never feel the same way, i been fiendin’ (yeah)
(yeah, yeah, yeah) i put that sh+t on god, i put that sh+t on me
(yeah) i put this sh+t up on my mama, i’m a money fiend
(yeah) yeah, they see me makin’ moves, they can’t help but agree
(heh) they treadin’ lightly ’round me, they don’t want an enemy
(heh) i do this sh+t for f+ckin’ what?
(yeah) i roll anotha blunt ’cause i might smoke anotha one
pu+put that sh+t up on your life, you gon’ die a f+ckin’ bum
yeah, i know you not about it, yeah, you f+ckin’ suck (yuhh)
[verse 4: minok0]
posin’ for the camera, yeah, pa+paparazzi, eat it up
sippin’ on that everclear, i cannot stop throwing up
makin’ so much money bro, i think this is more than love
he was posted down the road, now he posted wit’ a dove
stylas gets to moppin’, he runnin’ out of options
point it then i shot it, yeah, me and ryn, we got him
hit the quota profit, w+wipe his nose, no fosit
smokin’ all this toxic, all yo music dog sh+t (yeahh)
[verse 5: cr1sis]
(go; yeah) swagout throwin’ bands up (yeah)
h+had to teach that boy a lesson, told him “hands up” (yeah)
whatchu looking for, we don’t give no hand outs (yeah)
all them b+ttons that you’re pressing, got me stressed out (yeah, yeah)
(go; yeah) you just f+cking copy me (yeah)
you ain’t doing nothing ’cause i’m posted wit’ the f+cking team (yeah)
ha+had to block him ’cause he talking sh+t, like what you mean? (yeah)
oh my go+o+od, money coming through the screen (yeah)
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