Afterlife Lyrics

Live a life of sin, I wanna see my dad again I guess it's bottle in end but I can fuck yo model friend I started from the bottom like fuck a Benz If heaven got a ghetto you can count us in

Sippin' Remy out the bottle, guess I'm out of gin Put potato on the mop, you know I ride with films

I have a nigga shakin' like he tryna dance Put a drum on the Glock, I'm tryna make a band

I don't care if you fall, I can't take the stand I can look you in your eyes but can't shake your hand

Package up the work, I just hope it land I can put you on a shirt but that don't make a man

Dave on the beat, you know what I sacrifice I put a Italian on my feet, I can't be actin' nice

Really treat the trenches like it's paradise My heart bein' cold, this is my afterlife

Ain't no bone to pick, I feel like I'm a clone of Skip Devil Got all them years, I can't condone a snitch

Dillion out his mind while he didn't plea the fifth Testify on your brother, I can't believe this shit

Mama, baby boy, you know Renita lit Type to send a hit, then go eat some Cheeto chips

How they did nip, I keep a loaded clip I knock his glass off, hope the nigga trip

On Skip, Rip to all my, Rip to Geno, Rip everybody that die, uh, this is what we gon' do

We get money from now on, we here and out Los Angeles, California, native

Uh, I speak on the city and hoe All this shit is dead, you ain't gettin' money

You ain't feedin' your family, don't fuck with it I'm gon' let this beat ride out there

Los Angeles, native Talk to him, S-L-A-P, dollar sign, S