Jdot Breezy – I-10 Lyrics

J
Martin!
My nigga told me I'm in good position
Stay in the clear and get that money, pay ops no attention
They know we down to take a hat, they better not ever mention
Me and my bros and we gonna serve with them blinks hitting
Bitch, we 'bout big business
Eight colors on the floor, got my heart in a hole
Knock, knock, there go the reaper
Satan at the door
She a thot, I wanna keep her
I'm knowing that it's wrong
Man, I said I gotta leave her, not tryin' to lead her on
I'm on I-10 riding with a cup full of lean and my backend
That Drac' all black in my bag, call it Batman
Riding with two clips and my mask, they might cash in
He pull up at my court, he gon' get his head bashed in
My bitch told me get my thug on
Caught up in that shit, you in the mix, that mean you thug wrong
Be a businessman, it ain't 'bout money, better love home
Only want exotic, it ex out and get that bub going
I found out she a thot, but it's too late
I'm not into breaking hearts, but how I tell it to her face?
Tell me where the fuck I start because there's tears in her face
I never tried to win her heart 'cause I was never in the race
Ain't into bullshit, I mind my business
23 Moncler coat, that's how I kick it
Uh, double B Simon belt and I'm counting digits
No need to hate on another nigga 'cause I'm living
The world keep on spinning
Eight colors on the floor, got my heart in a hole
Knock, knock, there go the reaper
Satan at the door
She a thot, I wanna keep her
I'm knowing that it's wrong
Man, I said I gotta leave her, not tryin' to lead her on
I'm on I-10 riding with a cup full of lean and my backend
That Drac' all black in my bag, call it Batman
Riding with two clips in my mask, they might cash in
He pull up at my court, he gon' get his head bashed in
Four-nick, fifty shot, fifty four-five shells
Mental, it ain't with me, they don't never see how I feel
Solid young nigga, I could always say I kept it real
Dissing me in songs, that's gonna get your pussy ass killed
We gonna step on every fucking thing
Bro gods, they're my bros
On my soul, I won't change
They keep dissing on my bro, on my soul, they want fame
Letting the feds help out the beef, on my soul, that shit lame
Eight colors on the floor, got my heart in a hole
Knock, knock, there go the reaper
Satan at the door
She a thot, I wanna keep her
I'm knowing that it's wrong
Man, I said I gotta leave her, not tryin' to lead her on
I'm on I-10 riding with a cup full of lean and my backend
That Drac' all black in my bag, call it Batman
Riding with two clips in my mask, they might cash in
He pull up at my court, he gon' get his head bashed in

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