Styles P - Phone Home lyrics

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Styles P - Phone Home lyrics

[Hook: Styles P and Trademark] I'm high, you high, 7 grams in the raw cone Jet Life high tell the lil' n***a phone home It's a doobie movie n***a and we all stoned Yeah the cars and the j**els, they all chrome [Verse 1: Curren$y] Ugh, Andretti Carleone Track pants, flip flops, NBA socks 458 Ferrari (the itsy b**hes prolly came out?) Im sorry Magazines write about the crew that you been knew of But they just findin out we always was the coolest This hustle is grueling but us n***as stay moving Always into The only way to come out it with the loot is Make sure your gla** bulletproof around them shooters Gruesome, with that jealousy I make them p**y n***as do ya Leg room stretchin, star wars Lexus, steamin my veggies