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    I'm in the D, baby
    What up, though?
    Take a look at all this ice on
    You know me
    I go ghetto gold every time
    (Damn, Dooder, you made this?)
    DJ Drama

    Nobody wanna be like you when they get older
    In the club tag-teaming bottles, bein' big holders
    It's lonely at the top, but you won't know, 'cause you ain't built for it
    My son spoiled, don't like nothin' else but Rick Owens
    Billionaire ties, got a sponsor by Rihanna
    Four-band bag, it say Loro Piana
    In one night, I used to make twenty-six thousand
    I don't wanna hear a sentence, you won't add another comma
    Drake, tell Canada I'm tryna be a citizen
    Let me set up shop, it's right across the street from Michigan
    Shopping spree Pay, I'm 'bout to come and scoop Christian
    I'm 'bout to have a rep at Somerset trippin'
    Still support the Pistons even though they ain't been winnin', though
    I don't get the name, 'cause everybody see me in the Ghost
    Fuck mancala, I got marble on the kitchen floor
    Need a chandelier, hang my chain on the ceiling, bro (gangsta)

    I live the life of a queenpin, cameras on the crib
    Trackers on the whip, 41-millimeter wrist
    Rosé bottles for my clique, whole team rich
    You would think I got it off the bricks, but I went legit
    I live the life of a queenpin, cameras on the crib
    Trackers on the whip, 41-millimeter wrist
    Rosé bottles for my clique, whole team rich
    You would think I got it off the bricks, but I went legit (shout to Payroll)

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    I'm legit, but they think that's a load of shit
    'Cause my kit worth a load of bricks, went from broke to rich
    Wanted me a 'Vette, bought one and now I'm over it
    Bought the Benz, but this winter, I might Rover it
    Tell that ho get over it, I found myself a colder bitch
    Her watch tell you that her nigga really sold some shit
    How I talk, you can tell a nigga know some shit
    Can't show your face around your city 'cause you owe some shit
    Move 'em by the hundreds, Cuban 'bout a hundred
    Pistol by the stomach, gotta move right when you gettin' money
    Shooters got a budget, guards when I'm in public
    This the price of fame, really this what come with when a nigga crib your diamond chain
    I used to send yams out in Canada, now I got fans out in Canada
    Boy, that shit make-believe, I can't be a fan of you
    Been fuckin' up the game for a while, I got stamina

    I live the life of a queenpin, cameras on the crib
    Trackers on the whip, 41-millimeter wrist
    Rosé bottles for my clique, whole team rich
    You would think I got it off the bricks, but I went legit
    I live the life of a queenpin, cameras on the crib
    Trackers on the whip, 41-millimeter wrist
    Rosé bottles for my clique, whole team rich
    You would think I got it off the bricks, but I went legit

    (Gangsta Grizzillz)

    Información de la canción

    Composición: David Jackson, Arkeisha Knight, Joseph Robinson, Christian Hoskins y Dior Giovanni Petty

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