The Plug

Berner what up nigga

It's that Urban Farmer shit

It's that driving slow in a fast car

Burning weed

A zip underneath the seat

Uh, uh, uh

I’m, drinking two bottles at the same damn time

Placing orders and can’t even finish all of it

No phone in my loop, no holes in my crew

No cause in my chain, my car got no roof

Them riders with me everywhere and all of them shoot

Probably heard some things about me, man and all of them true

About how we came from nothing to something

Niggas eased up in the game, I just jumped in

I was 16, selling CD's and hustlin'

Had to learn fuck niggas, not to trust em'

Made a way, so now they’re treating me like royalty

And fuck the money niggas riding over loyalty

But when it come to money, I’m all about it so to speak

Put on for my dogs, do anything for my queen

Four hours rest, I’m living the dream

Wake up to marble on the floor, heated toilet seats

I’m balling hard, you should enjoy the seats

I bet this hundred thousand cash, ensure your belief

That if you work hard then this is what you could earn

As the kush burn, uh, uh, uh

I'm fresh picked from the hills, red eight inch heels

On my new bitch, she brought me all big face bills

And my Chevrolet dizzy, you don't know how it feels

To lose a mil in two months, shits way to real

I saw my mom last night, one hell of a dream

She told me keep your head up, and follow your dream

Empty bottles of lean, and white cups in the hand

Looking half dead sad, but I don’t try to understand

I rock Louis cause I can, I brought 84 grams

And only fuck with bitches that put money in my hands

I’m playing hundred dollar hands, 20k at the Palms

I drink, all day long and throw some dank in the bong

My whips too clean, I bet they hate that I ball

I throw two shots back, without a chaser at all

I let the stones in my pinky ring talk for me dog

And I don’t talk numbers with random cats in the club

I throw a fifty pack on the back of the truck

And get a crazy rush when I get to wrapping them up

No fingerprints, bought a fresh package of gloves

I’m blowing bud in the club, come fuck with the plug

I stay mind fucking bitches, baby give me the cash

I’m still haunted by my past, bullets shattered the glass

Them shells on the floor caught up with ‘em fast

I’m watching time fly, the coke tucked tight in the stash

My old head told me slow down before I crash

I try to listen, but I’m living like tonight is my last

And my all black fit, drunk and ready to shoot

In the coupe so dope, I don’t know what to do

And the crib so big, I can’t get to my room

I crashed out on the couch, in my jeans and my shoes

Drinking booze in the afternoon, smoking on hash

Two hits of the dab, boy I’m gone off wax

Cartier frames and my 501's

I’m in the slums with a millionaire, high and drunk

They try to stay tied in with the high end plug

I’m like a king with this weed bitch, I am bud

Six slugs in my 38, I told little momma go and get her money straight

I told Wiz break the weed down and roll up a shamess and watch

Fools run away when we finally blaze it

I’m so high