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pes recordings - cocaine credits lyrics

[verse 1]
i went from nickel bags to metric tons, a pirate in the ports
miami nights, the world is mine, got the city in my torch
i saw the future in a razor blade, vision off a key
now it’s kilos on the table, turn a dream into a fleet

colombian connects, met diego through a jet
i was 20 with a beamer, had the feds placing bets
taught to never trust a soul, even shadows switch they stеps
last dude who crossed the linе? now his grave collectin’ debt

marble floors, gold chandeliers, bricks in the walls
mink coats draggin’ through the heat, stuntin’ just because
pablo sent the payload, pilot sent a halo
church boy turned plug, now i’m holy with the yayo

[hook]
rubber bands, duffle bags, count it up and let it stack
white lines, blue magic, made a milli off the pack
cocaine credits, flip a brick and run it back
what’s a limit? ain’t no debit, only cash where i’m at
[verse 2]
every move i made was chess, had to think five ahead
made a fortune off a substance that could put me in the feds
told my mama, “i’m a king, i ain’t cut for nine+to+five,”
but every dollar that i touched was another risk to ride

suitcases through the customs, fake names on the charter
cash flowin’ like sinatra, all this powder made me larger
but paranoia’s at my neck, i keep a ruger on the dresser
cartel sendin’ messages, my life a game of pressure

fake friends, loose lips, state pens, death lists
one snitch, one slip, whole clique vanishes
last drop went bad, now the walls closin’ in
from the top of medellín to a cell made of tin

[verse 3]
a hundred million later, ain’t no loyalty in greed
my best man wore a wire, heard my name up in a plea
dea been buildin’ cases, they been patient with the sting
now i’m runnin’ outta luck, like my karma caught a beam
private jets, high life, toastin’ on a yacht
now it’s prison jumpsuits, commissary full of knots
did it all for the power, did it all for the wealth
but in the end, this dirty money couldn’t buy my way to health

now i’m facin’ 25, once a king, now a p+wn
in the mirror see my past, just a ghost in the dawn
if i had another shot, would i do it all the same?
or was i just another victim in the powder+coated game?

[outro hook]
rubber bands, duffle bags, count it up and let it stack…
white lines, blue magic, made a milli off the pack…
cocaine credits… flip a brick and run it back…
what’s a limit? ain’t no debit… only cash where i’m at…

- pes recordings lyrics

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