Текст песни Philadelphia - ANDRWMAARS

Yeah, you dig?
Baars, maars, aye
Aye
Hey P
I'm not talking Master P I'm talkin' 'bout the great Philadelphia,
Born in the dust
I had to grow from it, made a difference
For my son he gotta grow in it
Every day is a new start, I blow charts
I want the pie gram and thick bitches on Instagram
I know you follow me, but that's what followers do
I raised hell with my fire, blue, red doors
No perfume, but I desire
Boss Orange I'm on,
these young boys' just strangers,
I love all my bitches with the danger
I'm still stuck on the ground like your roots
I take control and I'mma stash in the boot
I pull up to the zone with no emotion,
I'm potent, and niggas really doubt you
You don't know it though
Pop tags and pop heads, tell ya bitch to game head,
No subject, I still jump like trampoline,
I beat 2 niggas up
Like I'm wrestling, sipping on the lean
Pray for all my young niggas, in the streets they fiends,
You gotta rob and you gotta shoot
Somebody gotta die for real
Philadelphia, I'm too meek on the scene
Somebody had to lie for real
Philadelphia, I'm no snitch I'm a man
I want you to be raised to like one
If you smoke, we can smoke one
If you smoke, we can smoke one
Baars, Maars
If you kill, we can go kill someone
I know a few people, they be useless
But somebody still using them, I said I'm losin' it
I'm losing it, I'mma lose it all for you son
But you know your daddy not a loser
He a chooser, a believer and I'm influenced
Look at my stats, Histograms,
Look at my legacy, it's all history man
Andrwmaars is the name, write about me, read about me man
Andrwmaars is the name, write about me, read about me man