Destroy Lonely - gang lyrics
[Intro: Ken Car$on] Yeah Yeah (Ha, ha, ha) Yeah [Verse 1: Ken Car$on] I ain't got no friends I'm posted with the gang, you a lame, you can't get in I love my ni**as, they my gang Hell nah, they ain't got no friends He just pop pills and sip drank He'll never be like Ken I took a hundred out the bank and I put it on your mans He ain't got nothin' in the bank, he broke as fu*k, look at his pants Got like four mil' for my advance I ride around town with a b*tch from France I do what I want, you do what you can I do what you don't 'cause I got them bands If you ain't talkin' money I can't hear what you sayin' [Verse 2: Lil Tecca] Do what I do, don't care what you sayin' My life is a movie, livin' on demand I been that ni**a, but now I'm the man Some ni**as switched up, took a different stance I seen the racks and took a second glance How you move funny and fu*k up a chance? I know she gon' do it for you, but I bet the bands finna make her dance Showin' no effort, I already know it Feel like I'm Sosa, already glowin' Chill with the ones, b*tch, you so chosen East to the West, I be still coastin' I might just hit this b*tch, then I be ghostin' They doin' the most, I ain't tryna be noticed Don't fu*k with these ni**as, "bro" that, "bro" this You don't even got that, bought that, sold this [Verse 3: Destroy Lonely] Yeah, I just hopped off my motherfu*kin' flight, yeah I'm scrollin' on my fu*kin' phone, yeah I'm thinkin' what ho I'ma try, yeah I just pulled up to my telly, b*tch, and now I'm finna get high, yeah I just hit that lil' bad-ass b*tch, but I can't make her mine, yeah You ni**as pull up and try this sh*t, I swear to God they die, yeah Racks in, but I spent all that sh*t on these Number (N)ine, yeah YSL my jeans, lil' b*tch, yes, I get stupid fly, yeah When I touchdown on the East, b*tch, yeah, we play with them Five's, yeah b*tch, I'm with my guys, woah, b*tch, I'm way too fried, yeah b*tch, I'm way too high, can't eat, lil' b*tch, I order fries, yeah These ni**as, they fake as fu*k, yeah, they just in disguise, yeah And these ni**as don't make enough to go to war with I [Verse 4: Ken Car$on] These ni**as don't make enough Boy, I know your life real tough I'm chasin' that bag, I'm countin' it up I ain't got a brand, you know what's up Boy, look at the tag, my b*tch ran up I just dropped a bag on me and her These ni**as be starvin', I'm eatin' up These ni**as be sober, I'm geekin' up You dream about that b*tch, I'm freakin' her This a Rolls Royce, ain't no Jeep in here I spot an opp, now I'm creepin' up Say hello to my Glock, let's meet, good luck You know how I rock, b*tch, I don't give no fu*k He mad at my co*k 'cause it been in her He ain't sendin' no drop 'cause he scared as fu*k If that boy send the drop, then we tearin' it up Here, you know that we sprayin' it up Pass me the ball, b*tch, I'm layin' it up I swear this sh*t, be easy as fu*k Hit your ho from the back, she was greasy as fu*k You be claimin' that b*tch, she be eatin' dick up You broke and we rich, you can't mingle with us You say that she yours but she single with us I was fu*kin' that b*tch, we was on the tour bus