Fredo - Candlelit Dinners lyrics

Nah, this ain't a song
It's a lesson and plan i was broke
But bein' broke don't make you less of a man
What makes you less of a man is not
Tryna change that the best that you can
Whether that's workin' or stretchin' a gram
Catch me warmin' up my cocaine
Look like stretchin' his hams
Got an away game down in
Country with several fans
Drippy, young nigga
They could always tell it was man
Yeah, I looked fly when I was broke
But, I look better with bands
I was a kid but felt like less of a man
So I skipped my test and
Went to Loose's instead
Had a test in the grams
There's one or two good
But thе streets and the rest of it's bad
I saw more fеds and yard workers
And less of my dad
But, I didn't need a dad, no lie
'cause I had the streets for that
My brothers loved beef
We pull up anywhere and feast on that
Caught him by the pizza shop and gave
Him more slices than his pizza had
Real life, me and mine don't need to cap

My life's crazy
I'm talkin' 'bout them wooden handle
Grip spinners and candlelit dinners
Handle the whole block while
I handle my business
Rise them hand things fast
You put a hand on my niggas
I won't even lie
Lot of rage I'm holdin' inside
Fuck designer
Got a clothing range I solely design
I used to dream 'bout drivin' a Range
Now I got a Range I won't even drive
And if I saw the hoes, I'd probably hide

It's crazy, sixty grand car
This as flee as can be
But last time I drove that car
Felt like a Prius to me
Look what this lifestyle is doin' to me
I want money for stuff I was doin' for free
But, if I weren't me
They wouldn't do it for me
I must remember they're due a fee
They don't do it for free i left my ex girl
Now the only thing I'm doin' is me
And you're so soi
Would've thought I left you in a seat
Crazy how what I'd done started
To turn you into me
But, I'm still risky and more
Bend a bitch over the sixtieth floor
Only risk I'm not takin' is
Not takin' any risks anymore
Where I'm from, if you don't risk it
You're poor i know exactly what I want
Real riches galore
But, I got APs, rollies, riches and more
Man, it comes like my wrist isn't sure
Man I told you that I'm sick
And there isn't a cure
There isn't a place for the
Guns to be hidden, then there isn't a tour

My life's crazy
I'm talkin' 'bout them wooden handle
Grip spinners and candlelit dinners
Handle the whole block while
I handle my business
Rise them hand things fast
You put a hand on my niggas
I won't even lie
Lot of rage I'm holdin' inside
Fuck designer
Got a clothing range I solely design
I used to dream 'bout drivin' a Range
Now I got a Range I won't even drive
And if I saw the hoes, I'd probably hide