FWTS ft. Nu Image & S0L Lyrics

My bro hit me up on my phone for the play

Think about my past I be strapped for the day

That's just how we live scheming plans by the way

I be moving fast give a fuck what they say

Yeah

Give a fuck what they say

And if they talking reckless

Got the heater on my waist

Smooth with the shits

I don't ever leave a trace

If you don't got money

Get the fuck out my face

If money is time then why I am I feeling timeless?

Race against the clock can't tell you where my mind is

Facing all these thoughts look like I'm reading science

Found the best reefer I can tell you where to find this

Vine this, finest, you can be the highest

Talk about my cheese look like I designed it

Send me the addy we gonn' slide we be riding

Catch me and my brotha in the city all the time man

Yeah give a fuck what they say

I'm smooth with the paper

But a backwood a day

Remember back in the day

Only had 5 couldn't have it my way

Now I'm in the 6 blowing blunts to the face

Party at the telly Westin Harbour don't be late

TTC metro couldn't drive I'm too faded

Metro was booming bust out a 2 play

My bro hit me up on my phone for the play

Think about my past I be strapped for the day

That's just how we live scheming plans by the way

I be moving fast give a fuck what they say

Yeah

Give a fuck what they say

And if they talking reckless

Got the heater on my waist

Smooth with the shits

I don't ever leave a trace

If you don't got money

Get the fuck out my face

I need all the real riders to the left and

Heat the lead leave these clout seekers outta breath and 

Pump faking in the name Smith and Wesson

We just run that check up to the to the sky while they stressing 

Pull up seven deep 

With a center piece 

We don't settle beef 

Turn up till the end of me 

Serotonin flow feed the streets amphetamine 

Looking like a felony why 

Ya Babygirl got a taste for my blood now 

Feel the rush in my veins when she come round 

Fucking on drugs getting buzzed out

Part ways with that pussy it's a Comedown 

Nah this ain't the type of love to believe in 

Call it love but it's really  an agreement 

Room full of dead presidents and demons 

Say she need me

Got her fiending 

What a feeling 

My bro hit me up on my phone for the play

Think about my past I be strapped for the day

That's just how we live scheming plans by the way

I be moving fast give a fuck what they say

Yeah

Give a fuck what they say

And if they talking reckless

Got the heater on my waist

Smooth with the shits

I don't ever leave a trace

If you don't got money

Get the fuck out my face