Pryde - Boston George lyrics

Published

0 259 0

Pryde - Boston George lyrics

[Produced by K-Beatz] [Verse 1: Pryde] Colder than ever like I don't own a sweater, my sh** is on Lately I'm into spending my paper until it's gone Lately I'm into taking my paper and just investing it Double all that cash, save again and spend the rest of it Woah, that's a bad habit, I ain't got fame yet But I ain't doing half a**ed sh** just to take cheques My long tees, my tattoos make 'em break necks Getting me a late text from a chick I used a latex on That's the sh** that I do when I'm reckless J be texting me like, “Homie, your tweets be too messed up" Setbacks of being so close to being the next up But I'ma take your f**ing crown, so go 'head homie, fess up Forget an only college crowd, I'm taking the globe Not settling to make it rain, b**h, I'm making it snow Nice little Porsche, rich boy, but we're making it show We'll pull up in some Hondas and Uber cars taking your hoes Boy, my life should be on brazzers, we lit Live the life I f**ing live, watch your attitude switch Watch your happiness switch, I'm bout to be the next Tell your favorite rapper that I'm at his neck f** boy, what's up? [Hook: Gabrielle Ross] When I close my eyes Feel like everything could change in a minute I've been gone, baby, I've been on my business Going hard, thinking bigger than a limit cause If you lived my life Feels like everything could change in a minute You'll be gone, baby, you'll be on your business Going hard, thinking bigger if you're living my life [Verse 2: Pryde] Looking fresher than Philip Chong with some slippers on Chilling in a villa with blonde b**hes, ain't hitting bongs And I be on my laptop, really focused on better sh** Focused on which Rollie I'm about to switch the bezel in Shmoney dancing at your funeral, f** it I'm on Used to want these young girls, now try cop me a mom Now settle down, grown men are speaking You just a little tipsy, all my soldiers hella leaning Trizz rolled the greatest sh**, man, he hella weeded Rap boys that party like rock stars, we hella tweaking And if you bout that money talk, you better speak it Or I ain't f**ing with you, man, I got some f**ing issues I love stack making, that's my f**ing problem Rapper, singer, actor, I don't know what to call him You got some money, that's cool, clap clap I ain't into being rich, boy, I'm into being f**ing balling [Hook: Gabrielle Ross] [Verse 3: Avon Carter] That's right, yeah man Strip poker, removing the bras Playing Spades with the deuce of hearts Little jokers, I got the big one It cuts on the diamonds, it's kinda real, son Sipping D'usse with your boo thang These hoes ain't loyal, got me a new flame I knock it out like Pacquiao She my newest edition, pimpin', no Bobby Brown Pryde hit me on the iMessage I told him, "Hit me back in bout five seconds" My bad, homie, don't mind stressing sh**, I was eating some p**y, I had to digest it New York, New York Them Harlem n***as start to winning, of course you lost I get it to you for the low cause them portions cost Johnny Depp with the blow, Boston George Hit me [Hook: Gabrielle Ross] [x2]