Old English by Young Lace Lyrics
[Verse]
Made it through the pen two times for the nigga here
I ain't seen too many motherfuckers that a nigga fear
VS1's in my chain nigga, hella clear
012 is over so I'm focused on another year
Everybody talking bout shit that they don't ever do
I be at the club tellin' all the bouncers "let 'em through"
I don't need accountants, I be countin' all my revenue
Countin' all these zeros, remind me of the letter Q
I got promo, no homo, I hit the hoes in slo-mo
These bitches know that I'm a star and I ain't talkin' no Romo
They rep my logo, got it on their T-shirt
Y'all niggas playing for second and third, we first
Lamborghinis, Maseratis, motherfucking Bentley Coupes
Niggas selling their soul for fame, nigga here's the truth
Yup, I think so, I know so, that's real shit
Illuminatis and masons and white Jews, they rule shit
But I'm true shit, trials and tribulations, I done been through it
Last year was 50 racks, you know I ran through it
Yeah, they try to tell me I ain't on
But they maid, mommas and girlfriends be singing all of my songs
Something, they ain't had enough
I think these niggas mad as fuck
Why you niggas mad at us?
On holidays I'm the one to come through with the chicken truck
Smoking sticky weed and my swisher sweet
I got like 10 bands in my jeans
I went to jail and didn't miss a beat
My weed kickin like Bruce Lee
In the airport like "who, me?", got two chains, no Tity Boi
Sippin slow, ridin' clean, laying love on my city boi
Commissary, I maxed out, did my time and I came home
New whip, a new bitch and my competition on the same song
Made it through the pen two times for the nigga here
I ain't seen too many motherfuckers that a nigga fear
VS1's in my chain nigga, hella clear
012 is over so I'm focused on another year
Everybody talking bout shit that they don't ever do
I be at the club tellin' all the bouncers "let 'em through"
I don't need accountants, I be countin' all my revenue
Countin' all these zeros, remind me of the letter Q
I got promo, no homo, I hit the hoes in slo-mo
These bitches know that I'm a star and I ain't talkin' no Romo
They rep my logo, got it on their T-shirt
Y'all niggas playing for second and third, we first
Lamborghinis, Maseratis, motherfucking Bentley Coupes
Niggas selling their soul for fame, nigga here's the truth
Yup, I think so, I know so, that's real shit
Illuminatis and masons and white Jews, they rule shit
But I'm true shit, trials and tribulations, I done been through it
Last year was 50 racks, you know I ran through it
Yeah, they try to tell me I ain't on
But they maid, mommas and girlfriends be singing all of my songs
Something, they ain't had enough
I think these niggas mad as fuck
Why you niggas mad at us?
On holidays I'm the one to come through with the chicken truck
Smoking sticky weed and my swisher sweet
I got like 10 bands in my jeans
I went to jail and didn't miss a beat
My weed kickin like Bruce Lee
In the airport like "who, me?", got two chains, no Tity Boi
Sippin slow, ridin' clean, laying love on my city boi
Commissary, I maxed out, did my time and I came home
New whip, a new bitch and my competition on the same song