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f3nix - v on my lone lyrics

[intro]
ayy, ayy, ayy
ayy, ayy
woo
ayy, (huh, uh) ayy, ayy (huh, uh)
ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy
woo
ayy, what, ayy

[hook]
i’m high off that wok
rollin’ up all this weed
i’m reminiscin’ on my past
been thinkin’ for weeks
think about all these riches
i’m down on my knees
beggin’ please
this sh+t don’t come easy
i gotta work real hard
promotions all over the street
i went to the doctor
he told me i “got the flu”
‘cause i’m gettin’ “sick on the beat”

[post+hook]
and i’m all alone
i want your v
on my +lone
and i’ma get this on my own
and separate the right from my wrongs
just to make sure that you know where i’m from
‘cause i can’t come back
when i am home
i know i am gone for way too long
i hit an opp, if he catchin’ a tone
chains on my neck, and my wrist two+tone

[verse 1]
i’m never gon’ lack
b+tch, i’m keepin’ it cool
you talk out yo’ neck
but, your shorty, a fool
i move like a worker
i’m keepin’ these tools
one glock got enough
for an opp or two
make shorty scream
hit from the back
talk to the detectives
but, you claim you ain’t cappin’
nba glock i ain’t playin’ for madden
that’s one false move and my shots
get to splashin’
my shots hit his back
he got left in the hospital
he say he can’t die
yeah, he claim it’s impossible
movin’ this weight even if i got obstacles
shots won’t miss, b+tch this aim is phenomenal
kim jong+un, and my choppa’s anatomical
y’all always talking, i think that sh+t comical
bust from the back, i won’t stop
i’m unstoppable
you talkin’ names, and my .30’s not optional
shots to his neck, and i check for his pulse
b+tch, you tellin’ lies on my and they false
this glock 26 gonna give him a loss
i’m takin’ chains, b+tch i flex with his floss
i’m gettin’ fancy, i’m sippin’ on voss
i been independent, i am my own boss
i’m finna cop it no matter the cost
‘cause money don’t matter when my body falls

[verse 2]
so bro actin’ stupid, he goin’ insane
and i capped that b+tch back and put two in his brain
and i’m not smokin’ opps [?], because of the taste
3 gram wood in this blunt i’ma face
i’m packin’ that bag, b+tch i’m smokin’ that tree
downin’ that b+tch, i ain’t passin’ for free
to f+ck up a groupie, you payin’ a fee
my job is a pimp, b+tch it pays for my fleece

[bridge]
bro actin’ stupid, he goin’ insane
and i capped that b+tch back and put two in his brain
and i’m not smokin’ opps [?], because of the taste
3 gram wood in this blunt i’ma face
i’m packin’ that bag, b+tch i’m smokin’ that tree
downin’ that b+tch, i ain’t passin’ for free
to f+ck up a groupie, you payin’ a fee
my job is a pimp, b+tch it pays for my fleece

[hook]
i’m high off that wok
rollin’ up all this weed
i’m reminiscin’ on my past
been thinkin’ for weeks
think about all these riches
i’m down on my knees
beggin’ please
this sh+t don’t come easy
i gotta work real hard
promotions all over the street
i went to the doctor
he told me i “got the flu”
‘cause i’m gettin’ “sick on the beat”
the f+ck you mean

- f3nix lyrics

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