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(Rell On The Track) Are you in the mafia? Am I in the what? Whatever you wanna call it, organized crime I'm in the waste management business, everybody immediately a**umes you're mobbed up Top down, chillin' in the summertime All I see is blue hundreds, b*t*h, I'm colorblind The b*t*h say the pu**y for me 'cause she know it's mine N***a, I done ran through a hundred like a hundred times Ridin' down Rodeo in a Wraith You might as well say I'm out in space A thousand miles away and I don't feel out of place I could see thе hate through these all-whitе buffs on my face I just counted up a hundred, 'bout to count another hundred I ain't runnin' Dior runners, I'm just fresh as sh*t Spray some of that Creed, she wanna lick me like a peppermint Had to tell her move 'cause, b*t*h, you can't spill this medicine All I do is preach on these beats, I'm a reverend This lil' b*t*h a freak in the sheets, yeah, she devilish I gotta have at least fifty racks if I pop out How the f**k I got these Jordans on and they not out? These hoes raw, wanna f**k you for a shoutout If I catch a case, we going to trial, ain't no cop out N***a talk spicy, put some sauce on his taco Throw a n***a b*t*h back to him, Joe Flacco I told my ex-b*t*h, "Take a seat" I cuddle with the chopper every time I go to sleep A n***a want smoke, we gon' put him in a leaf I gotta leave them racks in the club on the floor when I leave I'm a real live P, come and go as I please Top down, chillin' with a baddie Her friend with her and they both got a fatty Yeah, they cute, but I'ma send these hoes to Cincinnati Don't slam the doors on this long-sleeve Caddy She wanna f**k me everywhere, this lil' b*t*h a savage I guess I'm like a father figure 'cause she call me daddy Her n***a think he got some racks, but he never had 'em Old n***as hating on the youngins, I ain't never understand it The hoes think I'm rude 'cause they say I ain't romantic You give me vibes, if you get in that room, you gon' panic I'm smokin' on some za, no, this weed ain't organic I got some fish scale in, not no salmon I got three cars parked outside of the mansion You used to be that n***a in the hood, bro, what happened? Ayy, ain't no Lululemon on me, rich as your big homie Get some head at the Coney, it was boogers in my Rollie Then I switched to the AP, fit cost like eight G's All my n***as takin' sh*t to length, we don't take pleas You would take a cold b*t*h to the mall, I make her so pleased My young n***as takin' hits, they the A-Team Fully on this Glock, seventeen, make it an eighteen You just started getting pape' in 2018, lil' n***a (Rell)
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