Gino Marley - Old Friends lyrics

[Gino Marley - Old Friends lyrics]

I bust 'em, ayy
Protege Beatz
LeeBoy on the track
I bust 'em, ayy

Hop in the field for that money or hop
Out the Porsche for that all-black bad money
Comma comma
Shootin' that E for, that, that re'
And I'ma kill everythin' that's comin'
Runnin'
Fendi on Tuesday, still pull a
Jugg by the Fridays
I get this shit all kind of ways
Better my trust with the plug, I pull
Up and get what I want
I ain't gotta pay
We from the coast, it's custom, show
Me some bales, I bust 'em
Ayy
Can't get attached for nothin', I
Must admit I love 'em
Ayy
Go fill up a sly
Hundreds, fifties, twenties
Might just love to touch it
I hear that money callin', it's all
In my ear, I ignore it
None of it

I know some niggas that kill for that play
Know some gon' take this on me
I wash my hands in blood, I
Promise, kill me a robber
I promise
That money be comin' too fast for a bar
Movin' that fast like the car, ayy
Elo got bitch off meds right now
She know she fuckin' on stars, ayy
I get that money and go get to cappin'
Bat in the truck, not the car, ayy
I'm runnin' this shit, bitch
Call me captain
Runnin' that shit from afar, ayy
Double back trappin', god of relaxin'
Third double double so far, ayy
I'm workin' this shit by the quarter
Movin' that out by the order
No sweat on my face crossin' borders
No sweat on my palms when
I'm grippin' that soil
Whip it and place it on daughters
Let it fly to your state, that's a warm-up
No sweat on my face crossin' borders
No sweat on my palms when
I'm grippin' that soil
Whip it and place it on daughters
Let it fly to your state, that's a warm-up
Traphouse four floors up
(Traphouse four floors up)

Hop in the field for that money or hop
Out the Porsche for that all-black bad money
Comma comma
Shootin' that E for, that, that re'
And I'ma kill everythin' that's comin'
Runnin'
Fendi on Tuesday, still pull a
Jugg by the Fridays
I get this shit all kind of ways
Better my trust with the plug, I pull
Up and get what I want
I ain't gotta pay
We from the coast, it's custom, show
Me some bales, I bust 'em
Ayy
Can't get attached for nothin', I
Must admit I love 'em
Ayy
Go fill up a sly
Hundreds, fifties, twenties
Might just love to touch it
I hear that money callin', it's all
In my ear, I ignore it
None of it

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