| This is the life we live |
| Ain’t nutin but dirty money |
| Grub and forks in a pyrex dish |
| Roll to the dough I ain’t pressing brakes |
| I’m still out here serving bait why you think I don’t show my face |
| And if rap ever went to waste |
| It’s a shame to say I’ll be back in the same estate |
| With a presser, metal plates and a bowl of flake |
| It’s a load if you ask for the risk I take and took this shit ain’t good |
| If I slip with this half a brick of buj I might have to get visits booked |
| Whoever slept keeps sleeping cah I know who overlooked |
| I just went to the plug for a meeting, it went well when I overtook |
| Up to the brim and late, you ain’t ever overcooked |
| You ain’t hit the strip all day, even though you know you should |
| I saw them cells and chased them |
| Never once got complacent |
| That’s why it’s Louis V on the laces and the shits so basic |
| If you talk about riding, we rid for ages |
| Me and bro on a bike just raging, tryna see suttin and blaze it |
| Need the feds to tape it |
| I got 2 young boys on a payslip, I ain’t hit cells in ages |
| Brick of snow and tape it, put it on a scale and weigh it |
| This is the life we live |
| Ain’t nutin but dirty money, grub and forks in a pyrex dish |
| The whole gangs on violent shit |
| In the hardest times I make it work |
| Show me a risk I’ll take it first |
| I ain’t sleeping tight or feeling right until I fly this bird |
| This is the life we live |
| Ain’t nutin but dirty money, grub and forks in a pyrex dish |
| The whole gangs on violent shit |
| In the hardest times I make it work |
| Show me a risk I’ll take it first |
| I ain’t sleeping tight or feeling right until I fly this bird |
| When I step in the trap, you know I’m gonna make it work |
| If you mention me, I need a degree in making birds |
| I never had piss, but a dirty fork and dish |
| And my left wrist stays on glow |
| All cause my right one stayed on whip |
| I got fed up of sitting and wishing |
| I packed up and I made a change |
| Went cunch for 48 hours, then I came home with an 18k |
| And I went through the hardest days recouping losses, counting wins |
| And we’re talking 100 bags when I out this brick |
| And I feel like Trap when I mix the work gotta cover my face |
| I don’t talk in grams; I talk brown bricks in masking tape |
| Have you counted a stack so fat that your fingers ache? |
| And sometimes I drive in silence, I have a clean run when I’m thinking straight |
| And if I could take it back, I’d probably do it all the same |
| And last week I killed the trap, this week imma do it all again |
| I fell in love with the sight of money |
| Bro fell in love with the sight of guns |
| Now I feel at home with the kitchen stove, just me whipping up |
| This is the life we live |
| Ain’t nutin but dirty money, grub and forks in a pyrex dish |
| The whole gangs on violent shit |
| In the hardest times I make it work |
| Show me a risk I’ll take it first |
| I ain’t sleeping tight or feeling right until I fly this bird |
| This is the life we live |
| Ain’t nutin but dirty money, grub and forks in a pyrex dish |
| The whole gangs on violent shit |
| In the hardest times I make it work |
| Show me a risk I’ll take it first |
| I ain’t sleeping tight or feeling right until I fly this bird |
| This is the life we live |
| Ain’t nutin but dirty money |
| Grub and forks in a pyrex dish |