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Correct Last Ones Left Lyrics
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Artists: D
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Dave East
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Correct Last Ones Left
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[Intro] Real niggas Real niggas Real niggas [Verse 1: Dave East] Uh, shout to Pun on Fetty block, my youngin's fetti chasin' FDR North, no license but I got registration Every Jordan months before they drop, I ain't ever waitin' Fuck the government and motherfuck board of education Never taught me nothing, but the block did Goyard bags under both eyelids, give a fuck 'bout your stylist Laid up in the palace, knocking Khaled eating salad Money, sex, drugs, and violence Hit the ave to keep my balance I was in the hills of Beverly Hermes accessories Allergic to that jealousy 22 caught my felony Mami with me swallowed the bar I had to Ferragamo her bra No arguments, we followin' cars Not a nigga alive Ever violate and just slide I've been stabbed and grazed Better aim, I might have died 30,000 dollars in bundles Rock Bape in the jungle Ma$e called me and told me rumble Harlem, fuck bein' humble Be buildin' in-front the circle They say patience a virtue Nick strong, my boy a soldier Know the streets'll desert you I'm in the rain, Christian Louboutins, watchin' for puddles My circles small as a dime, perfect fit for that puzzle Talk it, I live it The plug just sent the powder to [?] Remember eatin' off them fuckin' trays mindin' my business I'm in the field for real, ain't never got no time for no gimmicks Eddie Kendricks playin', he died before he got through his sentence [Chorus: Dave East] The plug just sent the powder to [?] Remember eatin' off them fuckin' trays mindin' my business The plug just sent the powder to [?] Remember eatin' off them fuckin' trays mindin' my business [Verse 2: Don Q] I used to pull up in the Honda but now it's a drop big I'm window shoppin' when I buy tints I ran out the store and been hot since I pour up the four on the block bench I had to get low when the cops spin I was trapped in the trap I was locked in That XXL I am the top 10 I can smoke that from the sky These young niggas killin' and they ready to die Wish you could tell that I'm high All this red in my eye, my wrist and my neck is a pie Never knew where we was headed Talkin' back when I was peasy headed Baggy tee's with graffiti letters Now diamonds dancin' where Jesus head is Ups and downs, I was keepin' leverage I hope I live enough to see my blessings She DM a message, I ain't even check it Trapping hard get an E for effort Give a fuck what the drugs cost We try and knock a nigga plug off Plain 30 take the gloves off All business, no love off Pineapple Fanta my favorite Especially when I got that drank in it Two liter with an eighth in it Two seater and I'm racin' it Might take out the 'Rari for Christmas Fuck off my heart relentless I had to bump in my mistress I had to Cartier my lenses Wait let's keep it 100 I'm fly as a bitch when you see me in public My pieces is flooded Come in the house and my heat was the oven Sold my first ounce but the re-up was nothin' Pretty hoes give me the puss I make her clean through the dishes and cook My shooter the drop, make him sit and just look Outside of your house with a stick in a bush I remember I ain't had shit I was down on my last cent All I know is keep the bag zipped Hit the ave for a fast flip Necklace on me, lot of ice on me Totin' that Glock and be nice on 'em Seal the baggage up, right on it On God put my life on it [Chorus: Don Q] Necklace on me, lot of ice on me Totin' that Glock and be nice on 'em Seal the baggage up, right on it On God put my life on it Necklace on me, lot of ice on me Totin' that Glock and be nice on 'em Seal the baggage up, right on it On God put my life on it [Verse 3: Dave East] Jump in the Wraith I'm makin' love in the court My lawyer just fuckin' the case I'm smokin' dope on 108th Momma come home, put them others away Ain't so tough with a gun in your face No time to waste I got 100s to make OG and gas, that's a wonderful taste Bet when I die I be one of the greats I be with felons with coke They even jealous or broke Niggas'll tell on they bro I've been through shit I never can show I'm in this bitch like Flex in the '90s You ain't designer, my niggas is grimy Weavin' through traffic, got hitters behind me Sneakers is Gucci, jeans Givenchy [Verse 4: Don Q] Tell my chauffeur come drive me Bird off on the [?] Louis T for a 90 These 4 chains cost 90 Pro at the game, cosign me Brand new Porsche ridin' Hop out, ghost ridin' We get that work and we export it I ain't ever been extorted My bitch full of numbers, you [?] [?] the next Floyd I kick her out if the sex boring Then it's on to the next horn Next city gettin' checks for it When you say my name put respek on it [Chorus: Don Q] Then it's on to the next horn Next city gettin' checks for it When you say my name put respek on it Then it's on to the next horn Next city gettin' checks for it When you say my name put respek on it [Chorus: Dave East] Weavin' through traffic, got hitters behind me Sneakers is Gucci, jeans Givenchy Weavin' through traffic, got hitters behind me Sneakers is Gucci, jeans Givenchy
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