Текст песни Flight to NY - S0K0

Gotta get money, that shit never stopping, I put that shit right on my gang (Yeah)
Dressed in all black like Batman, bro he be robbing, man where the fuck Bane (Bitch)
Don't try to hang 'round me, don't try to come with us, lil' bitch I know you a lame (Nah)
I get my money, lil' bitch I just run it up, hell nah we is not the same (Yeah)

I took a flight to New York now I'm chilling with Martin, we finna go party, okay
I spent yo rent on my motherfucking glasses, they Cartis and jeans they from Marni Okay
Other jeans they is from Endless they made just by Bari, I'm flexing not sorry, okay
Up in the whip finna look at the ceiling, it's starry, no this ain't Ferrari, no way

Up in that Range Rove
We finna go every place that you can't go
Aim chops at a tango, uh
Hitting the gas in a SRT 'rango
Too much drip need a raincoat, uh
I'm up, you down bad, we is not in the same boat
I could not waste my time on a lame hoe
I drop hits then I lay low
Bro pouring that mud, yeah RIP Fredo (Mud, mud)
Bitch got good brain, she the daughter of Plato
Big ass AR, no this bitch not a draco
Talking that shit but what the fuck they know
Talking that shit, he end up with a halo
You get no money, man, you must hate dough
Fuck is you on lil' bitch
Answer quick like you up on a game show
But is this a game? No
Chilling with my gang, hoe
Yeah I'm with the same bros
We got floor seats, you up in the eighth row
Shitting on opps, they call me a a-hole
CDG on but do we play? No
In SRT and my gang in a Range Rove
Say that you hard, man, if you say so
I don't really think so though, you trash as hell
Run up on me get the fastest L
Bars they is magical, cast a spell
Beat was turnt so I add a bell
Party was lit so I had to yell
Finna be champ, finna grab the belt
Did this on my own, I ain't ask for help
They see me up and they mad as hell

Yeah, already up, I ain't stopping yet
Cop a new Trackhawk, don't wanna cop the 'vette
Song a hit, I ain't even drop it yet
Send the location, pin he finna drop it, bet
Take a minute, just stop and flex
All headshots so bitch don't cop a vest
Too much drip, okay, it's sopping wet
I won't stop 'cause mill' I don't got it yet
Yeah, finna have that shit soon, for sure
Work for what you want, then it's yours
My money tall, yo money on dwarf
My money tall, yo shit is too short
You talking hot but that shit sound too forced
You finna get smoked, I ain't talking no Newport
Left Michigan, took a flight to New York

I took a flight to New York now I'm chilling with Martin, we finna go party, okay
I spent yo rent on my motherfucking glasses, they Cartis and jeans they from Marni Okay
Other jeans they is from Endless they made just by Bari, I'm flexing not sorry, okay
Up in the whip finna look at the ceiling, it's starry, no this ain't Ferrari, no way

Up in New York, finna turn up
SRT tires on me, finna burn up
Yeah, lil' bitch you just burnt out
You dropped a song? Shit I ain't heard 'bout
Feel like Lil Baby, lil' bitch, it's my turn now
Used to simp for that bitch but that bitch getting curved now
Run up my money as high as my sperm count
Park that SRT right on the curb now
We too up lil' bitch, cant turn down
Dropping songs give a fuck 'bout a turnout
Got my money up, bitch, I splurge now
You ain't move ten feet, it's already third down
Ain't know how to snap, I had to learn how
Abs on me and I don't even work out
SRT, yeah, we finna swerve out
Used to be down bad got 'lenci my shirt now