[Verse 1: Zakee]
I wipe my tears away with dollar signs
Commas only thing on my mind
Coppas all on my dick but the profit is what I'm tryna find
So i'ma grind, hungry and I need it fast like its Ramadan
Killing off these characters I kamikaze Comicon
A rhyming don, that's what I gotta be Til my time to shine
But I won't sign my name on a dotted line cause the profit mine
I won't lose nor change change I won't drop a dime
Only dropping lines cause bitch I need my cheddar and Parmesan like I'm papa johns
But honestly why we talking this pizza shit?
My ex called me a piece of shit, well bitch i plead the fifth
Even the conceited chicks can see that he the shit
I need the money and the weed, that's it I'll never need a bitch
Eat a dick, and fuck all that whispering when you see me kid
You better get to wishing you don't see me on some genie shit
My intuition said quit the wishing and dreaming
If you really wanna live it then get it and go achieve it then
If people don't believe in your vision then you don't need them the same people that'll text you and get mad when you don't see the shit
I see the shit that you're doing behind my back
So please don't think I'm lacking, just don't have time to react
And I just looked down at my watch and it said time to watch your back cause all these niggas try to top you when the top is where you're at
But if the topic is the guap then I might pop up where you're at cause I'm a prophet for the profit, need my pockets to be fat, fuck a pocket full of posies, got a pocket full of presidents that's dead as shit, and it is the residence for Benjamin's
Shining like I'm Edison, the Mary is my medicine
A couple bad bitches at my door I'm about to let them in
Only if it's ten of them that's tryna fuck my friends and them but then again it's evident they'll jacket like a letterman
I said it's evident they'll jacket like a letterman
And nobody contestin him, that boy he is the best of them, better go get the reverend, turning heads like the exorcist, bitches I'm never sweating them
Fuckin em then forgettin em, passin' em to my niggas and then we fuckin' the rest of em
Don't question him, fuck counting sheep cause we counting Benjamin's, gotta give up on sleep when you tryna get what you dreamt of bitch, hating niggas irrelevant, always be tryna tell me shit
Bitches used to be stressing em now they fuckin undressin em, oh!
It's so impressive I'll teach you niggas a lesson that that gucci, farragomo, and Louie don't mean your dressing
Money? I need more of it it
Friends? I need less of em
And this is not an interview so hold your fuckin questioning
Pulling up in expensive shit, never been in a deficit
And me and Onz get commas like some never ending sentences
Tears was written by Zakee.
Tears was produced by C. Robin.
“I’ll throw in two more DOPE ass tracks with wordplay, punchlines and metaphors you’ll be able to decipher within seconds! These tracks knock the fuck out of that whack shit you’ve been listening to and will leave you bamboozled on how this man is still unsigned!”
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