Songtexte BANDO - Cartier Pesos

Uhm (heh), so like,
You know when you stay on 10 toes it be hard, cause

The real ones never make it, the reals ones
The real ones go to hell, and the fake ones you know they
They make it to heaven

Fuck it

Aye, Aye
Aye, Aye
Aye

What's a hundred to a thousand I'm a keep it G
Young rich nigga double C Saint Laurent from Yves

You ain't gotta lie just tell the truth to me (be quiet)
And truthfully, the syrup it was abusing me

Niggas claiming this and that, huh
Well I need the proof to see

In the bando in the trap
My niggas stay with a toolie piece

I'm a dog, he a cat
And my niggas no Ratatouille please (puss in boots)

I be gone off the meds
But now I'm so far than I used to be

I'm a dog he a cat (huh)You puss in boots to me
9 lives start from scratch
And no we don't like Ratatouille cheese (Ayy)

Why they hating I got racks
So them niggas gotta get used to me
Balenciaga on my ass I came a long way from them Truy jeans

And my bitches stay true to me
And my niggas they came out the zoo with me
Rags to Riches sex money the badest bitches yes I got the recipe

Know some niggas no I don't gotta speak
They pull up on the kid, whip his head no knee
Had to put down the cup, I was leanin' too much
All my demons attached to me

Greg Lauren yah yah
My sweats is attached to jeans
Them 30s around me attached to beams
They keep frontin' we make em' evac the scene

Only designer and Benji and bitches
It keeps me attached to cream

If it ain't bout no money
Then you can subtract the dream

I got niggas livin' off the block
Them corners attract the fiends

Pay attention lil' ass boy
Cause the hate only add the gleam

My shirt cost a thousand say Destroy (Vivienne)
So much agony I'm starting to enjoy it

Please don't bring that sapping my way
All I do is keep it a G it's a thousand, But I multiply bank
Never could I ever fold on my brother (huh)
Or follow the blind sake

On the road ducking from 12 on the come up
Don't panic just tuck the supply mane

I think they onto us don't let run-up
Now we gone burn up on the highway

Why play with the gang we is not one of em'
Put down the cat on the driveway

No time for sleep gotta work til the sun up
Don't do it for clout want the guns and the butter

You would if you should if you could motherfucka
My eyes never close leave a fuck nigga done up (Ayy Ahh)

What's a hundred to a thousand I'm a keep it G
Young rich nigga double C Saint Laurent from Yves (Chanelly)

You ain't gotta lie just tell the truth to me
And truthfully, the syrup it was abusing me

Niggas claiming this and that, huh
Well I need the proof to see

In the bando in the trap (trap)
My niggas stay with a toolie piece

I'm a dog, he a cat
And my niggas no Ratatouille please

I be gone off the meds
But now I'm so far than I used to be

You puss in boots to me
You puss in boots to me

Bat outta hell
Straight outta hell
Highway to hell