Hall Of Fame Lyrics

Every time I check my phone

All this bitch do is complain

She said I ain't like the rest

So I ran a different game

If you see me work that Glock

You gon think I'm hall of fame

Do a windmill on yo thot

Make her wanna share my name

Fuck with us that's suicide

He came with ya two gon die

Foreign shit came from Dubai

She top me right through the fly

Me and hoes won't be attached

Hit her once ain't textin back

MOB that shit a fact

7 blunts I'm facin that

Roll up another I'm tryna get higher

Walk out the house I got 3 or 4 lighters

Kno I'm plugged in I could be yo supplier

You gettin killed if you come with a wire

Tre fifty seven that bitch shootin fire

You gotta red dot my green dot is brighter

Money the motive I never get tired

Black Money Records who wanna get hired

Tryna get hired I'll put you to work

Can't move fast when you be off that syrup

Claimin that hoe I was hittin her first

That lil coochie don't got no worth

Fully automatic or the 3 round burst if I don't like the gun Ima get reimbursed

Schemin ass nigga think he finna lurk finna go a fee put his ass ona shirt

Jokes on you fuck nigga you dead talkin all that shit till they popped yo head

Tape ona scene that shit all red can't hang around him cause I kno he fed

Used to have dirty ass guns ina car see the red blue lights you kno I fled

Came a long way I'm tryna do better that's day by day I'm gettin my bread

I put this shit together most of y'all ain't pay attention

I left that bitch alone cause everyday she started trippin

You ain't believe the vision see me now you reminiscin

I kno if I get locked up most of y'all won't pay a visit

And when I speak the truth it just seem like you hate to listen

Like I could say yo name but yo goof ass ain't worth a mention

Too many people doin anything for recognition

It's 5 percent my windows and my whip on low suspension

Aye all red car like Bloody Mary

Blues on me like Jason Terry

Zaza green like Larry Larry

Never lack that's necessary

Don't get put in obituary

Fuck I look like gettin married

See that when I'm gettin buried

Fuck a thot, where the dough

Everyday I need some more

Maskin up, up the pole

If the trap keep movin slow

She act up, let her go

Cause she ain't my favorite hoe

Ain't gon lie, need some love

But I ain't gon chase it tho

From the heart straight to the mic

Man this shit like therapy

Niggas bark but got no bite

Let me kno you scared of beef

Pull up now get shot on sight

Thought you could compare to me

Shorty must want brack tonight

Walked in she kept starin at me

Every time I check my phone

All this bitch do is complain

She said I ain't like the rest

So I ran a different game

If you see me work that Glock

You gon think I'm hall of fame

Do a windmill on yo thot

Make her wanna share my name

Fuck with us that's suicide

He came with ya two gon die

Foreign shit came from Dubai

She top me right through the fly

Me and hoes won't be attached

Hit her once ain't textin back

MOB that shit a fact

Aye 7 blunts I'm facin that