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clavish – featuring dave lyrics

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[intro]
hal made it special

[verse]
pillow+talkin’ to a ho ’bout your gang, you better stop
like, who’s got more money, or who’s got a better spot?
tryna style me ’bout trappin’, somethin’ that you better not
if you still live at home with mum and you don’t reup on a box
don’t assume, go and ask what ’bout i do for my block
or what i did if he’s from smolley or ship, then spin the whip
they’ll say i ain’t done sh+t, but that’s what they’re meant to say
’cause they don’t want i really done drillings on my resume
22 got the crown for bustin’ guns and settin’ pace
stop pullin’ face, pretty girl, come and face it
the way she throw it back on me had me in some phases
like, “should i really f+ck with her?” but that was just a phase
still stuck up in my ways, should i buy a box of yay’
or drop my track featuring dave and accumulate a z a day?
he got shot once before this time, but he’ll never say
she told me if i f+ck up just one time, she’ll never stay
but never say never
phone my ar anytime, any weather
he was on the corner when he held bullets in his sweater
all the hoes that i mingle with are dumb, but i’m clever
they just all give me brain and now i’m smarter than ever
and n+ggas jealous of my come+up, how i used to be a runner
how i used to have no bread and hardly any b+tter
and now my skeleton’s a stunner, turn your bm to a hoover
my .17’s a young ting, my .38’s a cougar
my youngin, he don’t wanna be a trapper, just a shooter
any time he’s pressin’ b+ttons, he is not on no computer
had stones in my mouth before i ever saw a jeweler
saw a fresh .45 before i saw a (shh)
and i don’t trust the majority of n+ggas in my hood, so no, you can’t wear my wristw+tch
don’t ask what’s wrong, you wouldn’t have known if i was p+ssed off
in all black with crash standin’ next to me, stick c+cked, don’t get your sh+t rocked
i’ll be real, someone’s flyin’ if i ever get my sh+t robbed
i don’t miss lots, but i miss nb and i miss frost
i miss bein’ broke, back when everyone weren’t up my +rs+
cuban chains ’round my neck still don’t make me upperclass
bet you that i up it fast
talkin’ on my name like i ain’t left you all wet like you were layin’ in a bubble bath
i ain’t tryna burst your bubble
you been out here for years in the same position, clearly don’t know how to hustle
said she wanna go d.r
they won’t fit inside her bag ’cause i ain’t rollin’ with no pr
my n+gga got a 7 on his back like he cr
in the lamb truck, all you’ll hear is gr
when we pull up, all the hoes know who we are
they do weird sh+t for fun
don’t go talk behind my back and ask if you can borrow guns
or act like i don’t say, “yes”, when you ask to borrow funds
’cause next time you ask, i’ma tell you you can’t borrow none
got a rammy through his lung
and since then, all she done
in the hood, i’m the one to open doors, mum’s proud, she was tired of the f+ckeries
the coupe’s all black, but the inside’s custard cream
let kirky open up my show, but after my show, there’s a ho that opens up for me
got a crib in the sticks that i don’t live in
if you see me in the hood gettin’ my hair done, i’m grippin’
even though it don’t cost, i can’t afford to be slippin’
++++ said there’s a makarov for sale, now i’m grinnin’



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