Dame Grease - Lord Is Tryna Tell Ya Somthin lyrics

[Intro: Max B] Oww! Yeah Vigilante Season Boss Don, Dame Grease Let's get 'em, yeah [Verse 1: Max B] These streets, I got 'em in a smash If it's worth it, throw his body to the surface Everything is picture perfect Dog I wouldn't change a thing, got these n***as hatin' me Never once did they judge me when I couldn't make it rain If you see that Boss Don, he deliver Every song, b**hes they quiver, whenever I give 'em heavy dong Got that bezzy on my arm and it glisten like a charm, I'm the man See Jimmy, he my biggest fan, n***a damn See I do this sh** for fun, I was only toying with that co*karoach Now it's time to ride, we got lots of coke Know I cop the best sh** on the streets, why you envy? Hit me with some punani, baby don't be stingy Baby don't be tryna diss the Boss Don Bigga, n***a no It's best thing that I get the dough Higher stratuspheres, I can take you there, just grab my hand Make you disappear like the Magic Man, tragic, damn [Hook: Max B] The lord is tryna tell you somethin' (somethin') somethin' (somethin') Every morning you wake up and hit the mirror... ... then don't know who you are (are) Po-Po they almost caught it in the crib but we flushed it (flushed it) Flushed it (flushed it) Gain Greene gettin' money, you b**hes, I hope you notice the cars, awwww (Oh why?) You can see it in my eyes, I'm tryna ride (Oh why?) You in heaven but nobody waan die (Oh why?) I love fi see a battyman cry Every morning you wake up and hit the mirror then don't know who you are [Verse 2: French Montana] We hear to stay like sickle cell And you can tell I'm through these faces like Trenton Trail Montana, Biggavell, on-camera, get you k**ed, fit the bill Cop kinda work that don't fit the scale n***as try to counterfeit me and my n***as style I be lookin' on that WorldStar, watch a n***a style and try to book 'em f** up your budget, the cannon bust and them shots flying Fresh outta high school to the league, Mount Zion I'm like Kobe with the.40, McGrady with the.80 Shaq with the Mac, put a hole in your back I'm a product of that product they be baggin' up Coke Boyz, prices on his head, toe-tag 'em up You n***as underpaid, went and got the London Wave Gain Greene/Coke Wave renegades You know them n***as gun a hot, 100 shots You know we run the streets, what the bumboclaat Montana, b**h [Hook] [Verse 3: Max B] Back up in this sh** again, me and Dame Grease we got another hit again Scratch workers in tenements I'm innocent, wasn't even there People whisper when they see me like, "That's him! That's him! " Benjamins, get 'em by the bunch, bullets hit him by the bunch in his gut He salty cause his b**h a s*ut, lift her up Beat it while I'm standing, cause she cheated, I'm the man Pop that cannon in a jam, I was the man when I was vanned Now the b**hes do whatever I say, "Baby, give me some Fix me up. Hit you with the K." I get plenty munch Y'all n***as know where he from, we Harlem, b**h Ridin' on you f*ggots, y'all gon' hear me come Y'all n***as gon' hear me dump (dump) at my rival crew This 50 bag inside my shoe, 5th of Grand Cru Y'all know how we do, this is how we move on our enemies k** 'em all one by one Bend 'em up in piles, I'm gon' send 'em up to style, wow [Hook]