Me and my nigga Erik in the stu we cooking shit (oh)
Me and my nigga Erik in the stu we cooking shit
Cant go outside cos these niggas they be toting blicks
My homeboy died cos he was out serving bricks
Aye
Me and my nigga Erik in the stu we cooking shit
Cant go outside cos these niggas they be toting blicks
My homeboy died cos he was out serving bricks (my homeboy died cos he was out serving bricks)
Speeding in a fast car
This shit like NASCAR
Big body wraith it got hella stars
Trynna go platinum for the times they said I wouldn't make it this far
Now I gotta crib with a garage that hold ten cars
When I drop this album, I hope I make my mommas proud
Have you sitting backstage at my shows at Rolling Loud
I just wanna see all my friends standing out there in the crowd
Just got off the phone with grandma, said she want another house
Chrome Heart shirts don't fit no more
When you met me I told you I don't love no more
Still gave you my heart and you walked out the door
We could've been perfect
But you want a damn Birkin
Send her ass soul searching
Swear to god these hoes be lurking
Me and my nigga Erik in the stu we making hits
Cant f*ck with basic bitches cos they use my name to get lit
I told my girl to book a flight cos we gone make some trips
Birkins is to easy, Imma take you out to Saks Fifth
Bust you down in Comme Des Garcon cos that's some real drip
Put you up in that Prada whenever you say you proud of me
And I gave you my heart more then once so baby don't you ever leave
I locked my heart up and I even threw away the key
I put my heart into this shit to not make it out
Making this musics the only way I can let it out
Man f*ck Rolling Loud
Cos I be rolling loud
Hop up in that V12, thats how i'm skirting out
Private jets to Cancún, thats how i'm traveling now
Goyard bags, I feel like Uzi now
Stuck in my past, I'm just trynna move on
We could've been perfect
But you want a damn Birkin
Send her ass soul searching
Swear to god these hoes be lurking
Ian Suave - Soul Searchin (Bonus) Lyrics
Ian Suave - Soul Searchin (Bonus) Lyrics
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Me and my nigga Erik in the stu we cooking shit (oh)
Me and my nigga Erik in the stu we cooking shit
Cant go outside cos these niggas they be toting blicks
My homeboy died cos he was out serving bricks
Aye
Me and my nigga Erik in the stu we cooking shit
Cant go outside cos these niggas they be toting blicks
My homeboy died cos he was out serving bricks (my homeboy died cos he was out serving bricks)
Speeding in a fast car
This shit like NASCAR
Big body wraith it got hella stars
Trynna go platinum for the times they said I wouldn't make it this far
Now I gotta crib with a garage that hold ten cars
When I drop this album, I hope I make my mommas proud
Have you sitting backstage at my shows at Rolling Loud
I just wanna see all my friends standing out there in the crowd
Just got off the phone with grandma, said she want another house
Chrome Heart shirts don't fit no more
When you met me I told you I don't love no more
Still gave you my heart and you walked out the door
We could've been perfect
But you want a damn Birkin
Send her ass soul searching
Swear to god these hoes be lurking
Me and my nigga Erik in the stu we making hits
Cant f*ck with basic bitches cos they use my name to get lit
I told my girl to book a flight cos we gone make some trips
Birkins is to easy, Imma take you out to Saks Fifth
Bust you down in Comme Des Garcon cos that's some real drip
Put you up in that Prada whenever you say you proud of me
And I gave you my heart more then once so baby don't you ever leave
I locked my heart up and I even threw away the key
I put my heart into this shit to not make it out
Making this musics the only way I can let it out
Man f*ck Rolling Loud
Cos I be rolling loud
Hop up in that V12, thats how i'm skirting out
Private jets to Cancún, thats how i'm traveling now
Goyard bags, I feel like Uzi now
Stuck in my past, I'm just trynna move on
We could've been perfect
But you want a damn Birkin
Send her ass soul searching
Swear to god these hoes be lurking
Me and my nigga Erik in the stu we cooking shit
Cant go outside cos these niggas they be toting blicks
My homeboy died cos he was out serving bricks
Aye
Me and my nigga Erik in the stu we cooking shit
Cant go outside cos these niggas they be toting blicks
My homeboy died cos he was out serving bricks (my homeboy died cos he was out serving bricks)
Speeding in a fast car
This shit like NASCAR
Big body wraith it got hella stars
Trynna go platinum for the times they said I wouldn't make it this far
Now I gotta crib with a garage that hold ten cars
When I drop this album, I hope I make my mommas proud
Have you sitting backstage at my shows at Rolling Loud
I just wanna see all my friends standing out there in the crowd
Just got off the phone with grandma, said she want another house
Chrome Heart shirts don't fit no more
When you met me I told you I don't love no more
Still gave you my heart and you walked out the door
We could've been perfect
But you want a damn Birkin
Send her ass soul searching
Swear to god these hoes be lurking
Me and my nigga Erik in the stu we making hits
Cant f*ck with basic bitches cos they use my name to get lit
I told my girl to book a flight cos we gone make some trips
Birkins is to easy, Imma take you out to Saks Fifth
Bust you down in Comme Des Garcon cos that's some real drip
Put you up in that Prada whenever you say you proud of me
And I gave you my heart more then once so baby don't you ever leave
I locked my heart up and I even threw away the key
I put my heart into this shit to not make it out
Making this musics the only way I can let it out
Man f*ck Rolling Loud
Cos I be rolling loud
Hop up in that V12, thats how i'm skirting out
Private jets to Cancún, thats how i'm traveling now
Goyard bags, I feel like Uzi now
Stuck in my past, I'm just trynna move on
We could've been perfect
But you want a damn Birkin
Send her ass soul searching
Swear to god these hoes be lurking
Writer: Ian Johnson
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid, Sentric Music
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid, Sentric Music