Stalley - Coupes & Roses lyrics

[Verse 1: Stalley] As a kid I had a lot of money Knotted up, rubberband money Next to that Xbox, thrown in my Jordan box I think it was my 13's, something that I rarely rocked White and black high top, I used to wear the high socks Back when I was ballin', shootin' 3's for a dollar I was hustlin' n***as back then, buyin' momma scratch and wins Stackin my ends, tryin' to get that Robinson Cause pop was robbin', beatin' 'em, back then I mean back when he was in my life I still had to 'fend, for my life, it was do or die Dicky pants and suit and tie; let me decide which way to go Changes tire wages out to the day I expire so BCG's Russian, Blue Collar to the buckle All my deals done, Midwest n***a with the locs on Been getting this since Voltron, kung-fu grip, Bofon When it comes to getting this paper I'm like Kobe and Lebron [Hook x2] Coupes & roses, flowers for the dead Fresh may we bow our heads, give thanks for this bread Lord keep us safe and our families out the feds My OG ash'd his square, and this is what he said, he said: [Verse 2: Stalley] Expensive habits, I'm a addict for golden kicks Leather bunkers and dark-skinned chicks What can I say? I like to floss a bit, spend money like a faucet drip Sweat pants in Top Tens like a Boston n***a Everybody say I'm awesome, sh** I'm just makin money talkin' this Never made one cent off a tossin a brick I hustled diamonds, got my hands dirty, cleanin my wrist Gold gat, no rope, still the motion is sick Blue collar, clean Impala, automatic no stick In case they trip automatics with grip protect his essence Don't condone a weapon but they out to catch us slippin' When you livin' like this the poor feast on the rich Court seats in the Knicks, shout to Marn, my n***a The harder I work more lavish I live Not bad for a kid who only started with kicks [Hook x4]