Текст песни On my own - Lil 2z

You′re cooking, Frankie!

I sleep with one eye open just like I'm Fetty
In something real fast, it gon′ be hard to catch me
Just left from the east I was fucking lil' Leslie
But just last week, I was fucking her bestie
Put yo' ass on heat if yo′ ass don′t work
I'ma run this shit up and retire like Dirk
Got him mad at his bitch ′cause his hoe tryna flirt
Nigga let her flirt!
And it is what it is, nigga fuck how you feeling
I'm still independent, just turned down a million
I just spent a band just to make me some merch
And then went to the hood, passed it out to the children

Got this shit out the mud, ran it up to the ceiling
Burnt off in the Hemi, banana, I′m peeling
I don't give a fuck how these fuck niggas feeling
I do what I want, when I want, I be chilling
I stuck wit′ my niggas like Ed, Edd n Eddy
Put guap in my GPS, that's where I'm headed
No, I′m not a scammer but I need my credit
And boy we can take it as far as you let it
I like my chicken wing crispy and breaded
I′m getting this bread, nigga, where is the jelly?
Three racks for the shoes, nigga, watch where you stepping
I'm still rocking forces, I feel like I′m Nelly

Ay
I'm back in my zone
This bitch keep on calling won′t leave me alone
I'm back on the woods, I can′t stick to the cones
When I wanted that Benz, I did that on my own
Gotta re-up again, I did that on my own
When I wanted that charger did that on my own
When I turned sixteen, I told momma I'm grown
At the click of a app niggas swear they the toughest
I'll be the same nigga ′til I kick the bucket
Them folks hit the door we gon eat it or flush it
No, it ain′t a secret, I'm serving these nuggets
If I let this bitch bang, my ears gon rang
Every first of the month momma plotting the game

Finna shoot at the Houston and go talk to Dame
I finna get chains for the whole damn gang
If a nigga want smoke, then it′s really no problem
We got all the trumps and I ain't talking Donald
Too raw with this shit but I still fuck with condoms
You want it, I got it, meet me at McDonald′s
When I bust the pack open, you smell aroma
This bitch say she Creole, she straight out the Nola
The blunt got me burping like I'm drinking soda
Gotta stay to myself cause the game full of cobras