Cut The Grass

[Intro]
Yeah
Uh
720s, SAL
Yeah
Let's go, uh

[Verse]
My fam's itchin, straight pitchin
We flip bags while you take pictures
You ain't with it
My brothers over fake bitches
No questions you're all talk
State witness we hate snitchin
Cut the grass cause snakes slither
Hard work means early brekkies and late dinners
Trap livin no steak fillets, no new friends same mission
Blow smoke with straight liquor
We get bent and dream about a bank account with eight figures
While you change positions we stay vicious
Strong and Loyal we the winners
My fam comes first, yours didn't even make it to the finish
Ya crews a bunch of dogs you're the runt of the litter
Keep talkin all that shit and SAL will have to come and visit
Corleone my shooter, if he kicks it back then your finished
You can try and duck and hide but he ain't missin
Bang