boldy james - stop signs & yields lyrics
[intro]
(royal house on the beat)
227 (two+way, deuce, siete)
it’s mafia, what else?
jack god, where we at? (227)
gang time
[verse 1]
bro just got caught with the strig, told me “keep cranking”
weed straight and the speed got my feet stinking
just bought my b+tch a brand new ap and like three anklets (ayy)
now every night, a n+gga sleep in louis v blankets (where we at?)
double g’s on my sneaks like a freemason (uh+huh)
sh+t, if you waiting on me to fall off, tell ’em, “keep waiting” (it’s the jackson)
thumbing through eight hundred thou’, i caught a money cramp (big racks)
how i be racking, n+ggas think i got a money plant (where we at?)
couple creatures down in the feds, you know they run the camp
twenty bad b+tches running through the crib, look like the bunny ranch (ayy, ayy)
most of the time n+ggas see me, i be on my doley (uh+huh)
get just what you looking for, for n+ggas thinking that they know me (hop out)
what else?
[chorus]
these n+ggas know the verdict (uh+huh)
a closed mouth don’t get fed when it’s an open murder (what else?)
nah, for real, gotta keep it on my person
’cause i see death around that corner and i know she flirtin’ (see death around that corner)
b+tch been on my heels and i’ve been in the field (been on my heels)
running stop signs and yields, selling dope and curtain (skrrt, skrrt)
on the phone, talkin’ in code, i hit the road and merch it (where we at?)
now i’m in the back of the ‘bach, finna close the curtain
let’s get it
[verse 2]
i’m burning good dodie, kush on me
how to cook raw, sh+t d+mn near cooked brodie
real trench coat, hood like columbine on the 6, i’m ty dolla $ign with this sh+t, the way these n+ggas put the hook on me (drug zone)
titi know her nephy the one, she need a small seven
selling like seven different drugs and she do all seven (where we at?)
just ask streets the last time when he talked to tadoe
catchin’ pints for eighteen hundred and i ain’t talking quavo
takin’ off on dog catcher while the dog fetch ’em (ayy)
forgiatos on my shuttle, i had to offset ’em (skrrt, skrrt)
custy waitin’ at wendy’s, another one at tubby’s (uh)
youngin ran off on me, i ain’t seen him in a month of sundays
let’s get it
[chorus]
these n+ggas know the verdict (uh+huh)
a closed mouth don’t get fed when it’s an open murder (what else?)
nah, for real, gotta keep it on my person
’cause i see death around that corner and i know she flirtin’ (see death around that corner)
b+tch been on my heels and i’ve been in the field (been on my heels)
running stop signs and yields, selling dope and curtain (skrrt, skrrt)
on the phone, talkin’ in code, i hit the road and merch it (where we at?)
now i’m in the back of the ‘bach, finna close the curtain
let’s get it
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