Cry Champagne

Rome Streetz

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    Look (Niggas know who the fuck it is)
    Niggas can't fuck with me, look, ayo

    I'm a rapper now, I had the work in the pot sizzling
    Bitch down to ride by my side like Elizabeth
    Can't trust these reptiles, niggas on lizard shit
    Have a out before you get popped or be a prisoner
    Money by any means always been what the mission was
    Sin just to come up on the win, I been sinister
    Bring a listener into my world, lift weight
    But it wasn't a curl, fiends treat the work in my palm like a pearl
    Won't serve anybody, you need a referral
    When I'm on the beat, it's a homi', I'm keeping your girl
    On my dick 'cause she been there, made a shift, now we in gear
    Gold smiling, Stone Island my swimwear, you niggas never been there
    Far away, all my bars is yay
    The one like Penny Hardaway, chasing larger pay
    At the table bagging up bombs, playing some Marvin Gaye
    He asked me What's going on?, I said I'm living the wrong way (Damn)

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    Thought to myself: Shit gotta change
    Can't keep up with the God, 'cause you ain't got the range (Nah)
    Times was hard, now when we cry, it's champagne
    Can't fuck with my campaign (Never)
    Thought to myself: Shit gotta change
    Can't keep up with the God, 'cause you ain't got the range (Fuck outta here)
    Times was hard, now when we cry, it's champagne
    Can't fuck with my campaign (Never in your life, nigga), ayo, ayo

    Too many niggas sounding the same, doing the same shit
    Acting like they doing something different with the same script
    They in the way, clogging the lane, they lack the range
    When you level up, some close ones change, sad exchange
    They don't overstand when your aim's an eight figure bank
    Spending euros and francs, made it off the shit that I think
    Came up from an empty cup with nothing to drink
    Bitcoins bought half a brick, now I'm icy like a hockey rink
    Stupid niggas crash out like it cost a lot to think
    The jail and the morgue's full of those, bread or bullet holes
    What you looking for? Plenty to explore
    I'm out for greatness in my statements, fuck you, pay me like a hooker bored
    A lot of these niggas wasn't rhyming right, so I took New York
    Now smoke this work that I cooked with a fork
    When son writing, it's a young Tyson hooking your jaw
    You niggas been lost a long time ago, look at the score
    I lapped you all, now I'm out in London spending at the mall
    Bad groupie broads can't detach from my balls
    Made a transition from selling pill packs in the hall
    Where life ain't fair, niggas brought gats to the brawl
    Now I need Basquiats and Warhols on the walls
    So wealthy, if I ever dropped, the money soften the fall
    I'm after that, I ain't chasing fame
    So any time you ever see my eyes cry tears, bet it's Ace of Spades

    Thought to myself: Shit gotta change
    Can't keep up with the God, 'cause you ain't got the range (Nah)
    Times was hard, now when we cry, it's champagne
    Can't fuck with my campaign (Never)
    Thought to myself: Shit gotta change
    Can't keep up with the God, 'cause you ain't got the range (Fuck outta here)
    Times was hard, now when we cry, it's champagne
    Can't fuck with my campaign (Never in your life, nigga)

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    Composición: Camoflauge Monk

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