Warhol.SS - Lifestyle (Intro) lyrics

[Warhol.SS - Lifestyle Intro lyrics]

Ayy

I run this shit like a leader, ayy
I collect all my time like a meter, ayy
Measure your time out the beaker, ayy
And we gon' pour up this shit by the liter
Yeah bitch wanna check my
Bet she wanna check how I get fly
Peep this shit like a bird, mean eye
Baby, ain’t no worries, we high
Gon' check the urgency
Sit back countin' these chips knowin’
Niggas wanna murder me, ayy
Hot nigga ridin' round town
Burn a nigga with the third degree
Breakin' through the surface
Tryna see if this shit worth it
Closin' these curtains
Showin' these niggas my purpose
Ayy, if I don't protect my own
Can't kick, these niggas just clones


Hear facts, you can hear my tone
Hellcat, you can hear my engine runnin', ayy
Get to work and I call these plays
Good Lord, my nigga won’t fold
Countin’ these deads 'til my money get old
Can’t fuck with these niggas
They be penny-pinchin' countin' favors
Had to fuck your ho until
She woke the neighbors
Audemars, stay with the capers
Yeah, you know I'm pimpin’, dawg
Showed you niggas how to ball
I'm the one that stack it tall

Asian persuasion, I like your cajun, ayy
Lost my train of thought from
All these woods I'm facin'
Pinot Gris the taste, Mason Margiela lace
Niggas want that smoke, it's on delivery
Be sure to answer i flood the streets, I
Leave the levies broke, ayy
No nigga cut like me
Can't speak the shit I spoke
It's known to shoot, I always
Show up at the woke, ayy
That blasphemy you speakin', hope
A nigga choke, choke

Keep my pistol, hey
Nigga want smoke with me, gang
Hollow-tips bullets gon' kiss you, ayy
Damn, then your mama gon' miss you, hey ayy
Hop out the jeep, then hop
In the G, I'm switching, hey
Keep that fire like Benson, huh
Piece up all intentions
Lord knows I'ma hold down my own
Real nigga shit, bread up in my bones
I ain't got no time to waste, ayy, woah
Visine in my vision, eyes gon' find a way

Asian persuasion, I like your cajun, ayy
Lost my train of thought from
All these woods I'm facin'
Pinot Gris the taste, Mason Margiela lace
Niggas want that smoke, it's on delivery
Be sure to answer i flood the streets, I
Leave the levies broke, ayy
No nigga cut like me
Can't speak the shit I spoke
It's known to shoot, I always
Show up at the woke, ayy
That blasphemy you speakin', hope
A nigga choke, choke

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