Lyrics Phone Talk - FSG Rell feat. RNO Hollywood

Holly
Aye

Gotta phone for the plug
Gotta phone for the fiends
Gotta safe for the drugs
Gotta safe for the green
Count so much paper I need a machine
Posted up with my niggas all hittas on my team

You think shit is sweet, but it isn′t what it seem
I'm stuck in the bando with junkies and the fiends
They sleeping on me, but a na got a dream
I′m stuck in the trap man this isn't what it seem
Finger fucking money only with the beans
Rocking with the bro's ns on the team
Ns switching sides, ain′t no in between
Balling on the court, handle on a bean
Shake a na up call it tween tween
I ain′t fish Filay, I ain't Chick-Fil-A
Swear to God na got that bricks today
Hit my bro yeah he got them scripts today
Holly got the trap, about to lift the weight
Told my mom I′m a get us out this place
Time ticking so I gotta make a way
Bagging up work is the harder way
Got packs like trap harder way
Bang on em yeah the Vince Carter way
9 on me na Tony Parker way
I just get this money and I do my thing
Bitches on me I don't need no wedding ring
I′m sauced up, fried chicken wing
Hoping life start to bring some better things
Living large, living fast
Thick bitches, lotta ass
Blue smurfs, lotta cash
Shotty put em in a body bag
You don't want to see that shoddy blast
Shotty take his whole upper half
Stay lowkey mind on the bag
Remember nights I ain′t have no cash
Momma had me looking for the other half
Bills coming in man shit was looking sad
Wake up shit still looking bad
Gotta make a move, plug where you at
Slid to the city met em on the Ave
He said he got it in, I said I'm coming back
Back and forth like a na running laps
Shit went smooth when I hit the trap
Woo

Gotta phone for the plug
Gotta phone for the fiends
Gotta safe for the drugs
Gotta safe for the green
Count so much paper I need a machine
Posted up with my niggas all hittas on my team
Gotta phone for the plug
Gotta phone for the fiends
Gotta safe for the drugs
Gotta safe for the green
Count so much paper I need a machine
Posted up with my niggas all hittas on my team

They gone say Rell man I think that na died
You tried
They gone say Rell ain't got a lock on the streets, na you fried
Last na I thought was my competition, sent em to god
Ya favorite rapper a fraud and you know it
He don′t put work in, just look in his eyes
Wanna talk money I spend it
My cash don′t got limits
Pass the rock Ben Simmons
Benjamin's my religion
Blood on me I′m christian
Two bad bitches kissing
Whipping and whipping aye
Whipping and whipping aye
Ns keep calling my phone, what the fuck do you need
Gotta phone for the plug, gotta phone for the fiends
Gotta pack for the players, gotta sack for the team
Gotta safe for the drugs and I gotta safe for the weed
Yigga don't get it twisted
Me and my ns be shooting and hitting
You and ya ns be shooting and missing
On top of that y′all be shooting and snitching
Real ns know you can't beef with no snitches
I got the ladder on me in the trenches
Let ns talk all the bullshit dismiss it
Phone worth a milli, now watch how I flip it
Woo

Gotta phone for the plug
Gotta phone for the fiends
Gotta safe for the drugs
Gotta safe for the green
Count so much paper I need a machine
Posted up with my niggas all hittas on my team
Gotta phone for the plug
Gotta phone for the fiends
Gotta safe for the drugs
Gotta safe for the green
Count so much paper I need a machine
Posted up with my niggas all hittas on my team