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lolife blacc – empire shit lyrics

[intro: lolife blacc]
(aye tana, fye that sh+t up)
haha
still signed to the scale, n+gga
it’s lolife
motherf+ckin’ blacc
let’s get it

[verse 1: lolife blacc]
crack a seal on bricks of tris’, don’t hit my phone, move bricks of fent’
work white, cut tan, pitch hard, underhand
mr. 448, sh+t hit my line, you know who got them bags
triple a, endo, exotic, i sell plenty strains
i don’t need no favors, i’m no front, b+tch, ain’t no middle man
h+ll no, i don’t know curtis, i’m still working, i serve many men
six time tip pot flipper, on rich rollin’, know i’m bangin’ ends
walk inside my spot, ain’t got twin glocks, i got two f&n’s
caught that box on soften, then go trap that b+tch in west end
heard her p+ssy trash, so i’m gonna make her eat her best friend
20k profit, made that money off selling pints of green
i was broke as f+ck, robbin’, when young dro made shoulder lean
fast forward, b+tch, i made 200k on golby rd
i would not, i grab the hot plate, b+tch, ain’t gotta use the stove
cook it off a lighter, or a candle, i’m too much to handle
i don’t touch no dice, i kick the box when i’m in the mood to gamble
she thought this was work, b+tch, this is, my wrist just got the scramble
got this sh+t off 448, don’t confuse me with no f+cking scammer
etiquette got high standards, trap them bands in south atlanta
pints all in the kitchen, scale by stove, i got trap manners
[verse 2: lolife blacc & peewee longway]
i can cook a brick, don’t need no stove, just give me a white counter
too much dog sh+t, i can’t even count, i need a pamper, yup
frisco, i got bad lil b+tch, got a traphouse in atlanta
on thanksgiving, trap turkey bags, on christmas, move bags like santa
occupation, work the scale, no scammer, f+ck a 9 to 5
case is pending, sh+t, i’m still dealing, serving apple pie
money longer, sh+t, you get some sparkles, sprinkle, want the high
cod, when you handle business, i pay my plug in five
nelson j, spark it off a can, one hit, they cha cha slide
in the bay, hit up overseas, we smokin’ amazon
i don’t french kiss, i just f+cking tear that b+tch over ‘wa
rich off motor cell, mama sita, tell her comasta
torch her back like lex luger, send that b+tch an uber
and my opp just had a bad dream, i’m in it, freddy krueger
556, it hit your toupee, it expose your lil’ medulla
have my shooter walk you down, and then go hop back on his scooter

[outro]
(aye tana, fye that sh+t up)

- lolife blacc lyrics

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