Feeding My Wolves Lyrics

Do what I want, they gone do what they can

I'm repping my set, this shit for the grand

Stack it then flip, came out wit a band

Invested in grip, my thirty don't jam

Running your lip, imma crash on your plans

Rain your parade, they gone understand

I move for the money he move for the xan

He trying lil Yami, glock give 'em a tan

Certified stepper not needing no hand

I hustle for guap couple mill in my plans

Tool in my stock, we upping em fans

I'm working the block, avoiding the man

I'm talking bout twelve, we dodging the pen

I'm getting my mail, a knot in my pants

Opp on a plate Yami cooking the hen

I'm feeding my wolves, and staying on ten

I'm G

First nigga talking that talk, like buddy gone chalk

Don't walk what he saying he preach

Trynna go cop me a hawk, investing my stock

He faking but copping a plea

Loyalty mean everything, ain't faking for cheese

I ride for my dawg like Cease

Henny & tree in my mix , I'm getting 'em split

Get lift when you speaking on me

Yeah, get hit when you speaking on Ceej

Need money for war, he broker then seats

Down bad, I got on my feet

This shit not an image, the seven ain't sweet

Can't speak for no rapper, I said it I did it, Miyami ain't selling no dream

I'm upping the stable for cream

I put her in charge, she'll be working the team

Nah for real, pull up on the scene, the heat in my jeans

He trying? he lunch

Lil flame, I call her my dame

Collecting my change, she trying to hunch

Yeah... I got my mind on my dough , we taking it slow I told her no rush

Damn fein ass nigga, ain't talking bout figures

Then we ain't got nothing to discuss

That battery up in your back deceiving you dawg

You know you ain't pulling no stunt

Talking bout smoking on who? Just keep it cool

My niggas ah burn you like blunts

He playing like Suge but knowing he told on the hood

You playing, lil buddy a dunce

Ain't needing no hand for this shit, I'll sell me a brick

Before I go broke wit a crutch

Do what I want, they gone do what they can

I'm repping my set, this shit for the grand

Stack it then flip, came out wit a band

Invested in grip, my thirty don't jam

Running your lip, imma crash on your plans

Rain your parade, they gone understand

I move for the money he move for the xan

He trying lil Yami, glock give 'em a tan

Certified stepper not needing no hand

I hustle for guap couple mill in my plans

Tool in my stock, we upping em fans

I'm working the block, avoiding the man

I'm talking bout twelve, we dodging the pen

I'm getting my mail, a knot in my pants

Opp on a plate Yami cooking the hen

I'm feeding my wolves, and staying on ten