Foe Phones

Текст песни Bump J - Foe Phones

Foe Phones Lyrics[Intro]
Chief
Luxury

[Verse 1]
I didn't go to Harvard, didn't go to Yale
I do not own a degree, I'm from the streets
I have to cook up when I wanna eat
I spit that cook up when I'm on the beat
No I did not go to State, but I got a Wraith, I throw that chop in the safe
At 13 I got me a plate, chopped up that yay, then ran out and caught me a play
Found out you plottin' on my cake, I'm not gonna play, I pop up, start poppin' the K
I send them crash dummies to crash, stay out of they way, them choppers start choppin' away
Headshot, checkmate, safe full like it just ate
East side, yeah that way
I'm thinking bout sending somethin' that way
I'm thinking bout finger fuckin' that K
Goons runnin' in your home, I just want put all my niggas on
Don't kill my vibe, bitch I'm in my zone
Banana clip, I'ma peel his dome
We pop 'em fast, we don't sit on zones
Once we get 'em in, we gon' get 'em gone
We ain't on none of that fu shit you niggas on
All my niggas really on
[Chorus]
Whip with the digital dash, soon as I hit the gas, nigga so long
These fours and these slabs move super fast, lately I been trappin' off of both phones
If I'm ever out without that pole, it feel like I do not have clothes on
Never catch me naked, out here faking, 'specially runnin' round with all this gold on
I found out you plottin' on my cake, I'm not gonna play, I pop up, start poppin' the K
I send them crash dummies to crash, stay out of they way, them choppers start choppin' away
Whip with the digital dash, soon as I hit the gas, nigga so long
These fours and these slabs move super fast, lately I been trappin' off of both phones

[Verse 2]
I did not major in business, I'm not a grad out of Howard
I pop off slabs of that powder, I run through bales of that loud
Don't mention me in your raps, boy I don't wanna battle, I'm airin' you out
I run up and fan, bet I'm gon' get my man, I do not air at the crowd
I put pies on the stove, I put pies on the road
Look at my neck and my wrist, I turned them pies into gold
We them guys on the low, ridin' with the pole, live from the 'Go
I'ma die with the dough, long as they keep putting I's on the stove
This that next level, I guessed the jig with the devil, I threw some bricks in the bezel
I threw some bows at a stripper, I'm with the vultures and killers
That lil bitch you chasin' is not gonna bust it wide open for you, but gon' go for my niggas
You fake and you know I'm strapped
They slid through this bitch, fanning drums, I was blowin' back

[Chorus]
Whip with the digital dash, soon as I hit the gas, nigga so long
These fours and these slabs move super fast, lately I been trappin' off of both phones
If I'm ever out without that pole, it feel like I do not have clothes on
Never catch me naked, out here faking, 'specially runnin' round with all this gold on
I found out you plottin' on my cake, I'm not gonna play, I pop up, start poppin' the K
I send them crash dummies to crash, stay out of they way, them choppers start choppin' away
Whip with the digital dash, soon as I hit the gas, nigga so long
These fours and these slabs move super fast, lately I been trappin' off of both phones