The Old Groove

Ayo, where I'm from, these n!gga shoot ******* and kids (Brr, boom, boom, boom, boom)

Megabus upstairs, I had it taped to my ribs (Ah)

Stupid motherfxcker ain't find a brick in the fridge

Only got 10K, fxck that, we goin' back, Lord

(Man, fxck that, man, we goin' back, I told you the fxckin' brick was in the fridge, yo)

10K, fxck that, we goin' back, Lord (What's up, baby? Stroller)

Pineapple Urus, ******* purest (Ah)

Trench on, sh!t only came out in Europe (Ah)

My shooter on syrup (Grr)

Kicks I got on, you never heard of (Uh-uh)

My Puerto Rican ***** from La Perla

Rub the coke on my gums, that sh!t was magnifique (Ah)

Hugged the plug, told him same time next week

Jewelry fresh, the ******* all on my neck (Ah)

In the Guggenheim, I had the fold-up TEC (Grr)

Fendi headband, I didn't break a sweat (Uh-uh)

Same n!gga had Vicky eatin' out LaVette (Woo)

There's Genovese all over (Ah)

Wallabees cobra, graveyard shift Motorolas (Brr)

Brick after brick after brick, Lord, game over (Ah)

Ike just came home for a second time (Second time)

Could've fxcked your *****, I told her never mind (Told her never mind)

My team vicious, walk, talk, eat different (Ah)

Got a whole brick, I had to remix it (Remix)

Sh!t look like Jermaine Dupri whipped it (Whip)

Talk Caesar, seasick, them ******s keep hittin' (Grr)

Toss the F&N like a flea-flicker (Boom, boom, boom, boom)

Preach, n!gga, they gettin' money while we richer

Key flippers, Amiri jeans, Louis V slippers

Out of town OG shippers to the weed pitchers

You don't ever squeeze your blicker and that's where we differ (We ain't the same, n!ggas)

I don't hesitate to bust my chrome

Bar for bar, can't no n!gga touch my zone

N!ggas know what the fxck I'm on

Playin' spades in the county and n!ggas know not to touch my phone, yeah (Don't touch my phone)

My plug a giant in New York, he got them things in (Ah)

Send me thirteen to Cleveland, like the G-men (Hahaha)

Griselda the championship team, we got the rings in (Yeah)

Mad as fxck, my shooter got deported back to Kingston (It's fxcked up)

Your pockets not deep enough, do not beef with us

How can we be touched? You n!ggas don't got reach enough

You not street enough, I will come through your block and I street sweep it up (Brr)

Griselda, you n!ggas cannot eat with us, yeah

That's something that I cannot preach enough (Yeah)

40 on me, homie, I keep it tucked (Hah)

I’ma keep it a buck (Yeah)

If you a fxck n!gga, do not speak to us

We got Flee with us

Thirty shot Glocks'll heat sh!t up (Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom)

Machine

Mind your business, n!gga, tuck your paper (Tuck that)

When it's on, my shooter teflon a couple layers

Every day I put on gold like a fxckin' Laker (Fxckin' Laker)

Out west pushin' them foreign sh!ts up LaBrea (Skrrt)

You know the outcome when your pedigree is Martin, Malcolm

Don't 'preciate you, and when you dead, they study all your albums

I was young and sonnin' them n!ggas that you call a thousand (Them n!ggas?)

I was hustlin', frontin' them old n!ggas all them ounces (Where my money at?)

Quarter brick under my mattress and my father found it (True story)

Wanted me out, and all I did is make him call it down here (Come get this)

I just put my **** in her mouth, you bought that ho Louboutins (Fxck you doin'?)

I caught a bomb in the A, but don't play for the Falcons (Nah)

Ain't no linkin' back with n!ggas I had a fallin' out with (Fxck 'em)

They only start that sh!t with you so they can talk about it (Talk about it)

It's cool, and we can take it far as y'all allow it (What's poppin'?)

I spin through, your Gucci hoodie gon' have chalk around it (Brr)

Yeah, nah, I can't forget them traps that I had hostage (Had hostage)

Walkin' 'round with your re-up in my back pocket (Hahahaha)

I use your baby mama for a stash option

I couldn't trust that b!tch, so she was my last option

Uh, every time we drop, we gave hell to n!ggas (Gave hell to n!ggas)

So they top five got all three Griselda members

**** spot, a bunch of empty shells was in it

How I make that brick jump? I had to put my elbow in it

Let's go

I ain't playin' no games (Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh)

I said this is, my n!gga, this is my life, oh, sh!t (Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh)

I said listen, listen (Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh)

Never had a jump shot, but had a cold pen

Papa was an old pimp that used to smoke Slims, uh

I ain't the one for the tusslin'

Quick to tell a ***** n!gga, "Do something, then"

Brown Timbs with the Polo fleece, uh

Youngins pushin' packs, control those streets

And po-po'll flash the lights tryna find these n!ggas

Them ******* '80s turned me into a grimy n!gga, ooh

It's all about the yams

Mama always told me, "Pay your Uncle Sam"

Single mother, always had us on the lam

Livin' in them shelters, spaghetti and hot Spam, goddamn

Pots down, catch the bus to Campton

On my way to Sunday service with my n!ggas lampin'

Mrs. Harris used to make a mean catfish

We was teens, used to watch the fiends backflip

Talkin' to themselves, sellin' they love

That crack rock is a hell of a drug

In the stash spot, never sell out your plug

Anyone can get shot and killed, so I had to get out for real

’Cause I'm in another zone

You know the ghetto's home

You know the ghetto's home

You know the ghetto's home

I’m in another zone

You know the ghetto's home

You know the ghetto's home

You know the ghetto's home

’Cause I'm in another zone

You know the ghetto's home

You know the ghetto's home

You know the ghetto's home

I’m in another zone

You know the ghetto's home

You know the ghetto's home

You know the ghetto's home