Lyrics End Of Story - Vonte

Yeah
Antibiotic
Yeah
No yeezy I'm waverunning
I gotta stay blunted
I gotta stay on it
I couldn't wait on it
I gotta play on the way, Ima wait on it
You want results then you gotta go harder
I'm having dreams bout that Lambo Gallardo
Tommy my collar, that's mind of a scholar
High-top Rick Owens, this not Under Armor
High-top Margiela, this not Under Armor
Got High-top Off-White and it's not Under Armor
I fuck yo bitch she come back like it's karma
I fuck up the sack it come back like it's karma
I gotta pretty thang skin color caramel
And you can tell that she foreign
And if you ain't hollering at me about dollars
I'm probably gone get back at you in the morning
If you ain't talking bout dollars
Then ima prolly
Get back at you in the morning
'71 Chevrolet
Interior brown nigga like Captain Morgan
I don't give a fuck bout what none of these niggas say
Cause these niggas never could harm me
I know some young niggas they'll pull up on yo block
Now it's a developing story
I know some young niggas they'll pull up on yo block
Now that's the end of the story
Young Hefner Vonte
I take any bitch that I want! End of the story
All of my niggas with me and we aim for the top
End of the story
I did not fuck yo bitch nigga she only gave top
End of the story
I knew we would make our way from the motherfucking bottom
End of the Story
RIP my nigga Jmoney nigga no stopping
I had to keep going
Young nigga pull up I'm changing the whole fucking atmosphere nigga
They know I'm not normal
I coulda spoke to ya girl, probably get that bitch number
But my bitch gone do that shit for me
No yeezy I'm waverunning
I gotta stay blunted
I gotta stay on it
I couldn't wait on it
I gotta play on the way, Ima wait on it
You want results then you gotta go harder
I'm having dreams bout that Lambo Gallardo
Tommy my collar, that's mind of a scholar
High-top Rick Owens, this not Under Armor
High-top Margiela, this not Under Armor
Got High-top Off-White and it's not Under Armor
I fuck yo bitch she come back like it's karma
I fuck up the sack it come back like it's karma
I gotta pretty thang skin color caramel
And you can tell that she foreign
And if you ain't hollering at me about dollars
I'm probably gone get back at you in the morning