Stop crying over the truth
Our men have been mercenaries for eight generations now
A mercenary doesn't ask questions boy
It's enough to know the other man's dying for something
I knew the bitch was finna f*ck before I got her
Calling shots, I feel like the Godfather
You want some quick bands? Then you gotta drive farther
Broadie coulda bought a house, but he went and got a charger
Six figures on the coupe, Just to spin around
Hit the gas on this bitch, It make a different sound
He said it's up, that's a bet, we gon' take him down
These is seven.62s, this a special round
Out of town with this shit, we gon' move swift
I'm on the road, to a million, got the blueprints
He bought a Prada shirt, but he ain't got no new kicks
It's a lot of niggas talking bout some motion, they ain't doing this
Niggas really getting rich to get a broke bitch
Spent some thousands on the Louis, but the coat six
I swear I hate these bum niggas, we'll never mix
If getting money was a sport, I need a letterman
Ion chase hoes, if you bold, you can step up
You don't know the pressure when you knowing that you next up
I made $20,000 on a text plus
I need some new scripts, doctor thinking it's a checkup
You gon' take a lot of L's before you win, Jack
Gave my bitch five, swear to God she bringing ten back
Nigga said he bout that life, but I can end that
I just left Hutch, I had to go and get my lens waxed
Mama got the buffs, Bitch got em' too
Gotta watch them niggas in your face, cuz they gon' plot on you
Niggas switching up, that was out the blue
Heard they taking shots, but they forgetting how to follow through
MCE the wave, niggas getting paid
I was on my knuckles, I was praying for some better days
Why the f*ck you talking money, you ain't never made it
I been stacking up, pockets stuffed up with them Caucasians
Merc - The Blueprint Lyrics
Merc - The Blueprint Lyrics
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Stop crying over the truth
Our men have been mercenaries for eight generations now
A mercenary doesn't ask questions boy
It's enough to know the other man's dying for something
I knew the bitch was finna f*ck before I got her
Calling shots, I feel like the Godfather
You want some quick bands? Then you gotta drive farther
Broadie coulda bought a house, but he went and got a charger
Six figures on the coupe, Just to spin around
Hit the gas on this bitch, It make a different sound
He said it's up, that's a bet, we gon' take him down
These is seven.62s, this a special round
Out of town with this shit, we gon' move swift
I'm on the road, to a million, got the blueprints
He bought a Prada shirt, but he ain't got no new kicks
It's a lot of niggas talking bout some motion, they ain't doing this
Niggas really getting rich to get a broke bitch
Spent some thousands on the Louis, but the coat six
I swear I hate these bum niggas, we'll never mix
If getting money was a sport, I need a letterman
Ion chase hoes, if you bold, you can step up
You don't know the pressure when you knowing that you next up
I made $20,000 on a text plus
I need some new scripts, doctor thinking it's a checkup
You gon' take a lot of L's before you win, Jack
Gave my bitch five, swear to God she bringing ten back
Nigga said he bout that life, but I can end that
I just left Hutch, I had to go and get my lens waxed
Mama got the buffs, Bitch got em' too
Gotta watch them niggas in your face, cuz they gon' plot on you
Niggas switching up, that was out the blue
Heard they taking shots, but they forgetting how to follow through
MCE the wave, niggas getting paid
I was on my knuckles, I was praying for some better days
Why the f*ck you talking money, you ain't never made it
I been stacking up, pockets stuffed up with them Caucasians
Our men have been mercenaries for eight generations now
A mercenary doesn't ask questions boy
It's enough to know the other man's dying for something
I knew the bitch was finna f*ck before I got her
Calling shots, I feel like the Godfather
You want some quick bands? Then you gotta drive farther
Broadie coulda bought a house, but he went and got a charger
Six figures on the coupe, Just to spin around
Hit the gas on this bitch, It make a different sound
He said it's up, that's a bet, we gon' take him down
These is seven.62s, this a special round
Out of town with this shit, we gon' move swift
I'm on the road, to a million, got the blueprints
He bought a Prada shirt, but he ain't got no new kicks
It's a lot of niggas talking bout some motion, they ain't doing this
Niggas really getting rich to get a broke bitch
Spent some thousands on the Louis, but the coat six
I swear I hate these bum niggas, we'll never mix
If getting money was a sport, I need a letterman
Ion chase hoes, if you bold, you can step up
You don't know the pressure when you knowing that you next up
I made $20,000 on a text plus
I need some new scripts, doctor thinking it's a checkup
You gon' take a lot of L's before you win, Jack
Gave my bitch five, swear to God she bringing ten back
Nigga said he bout that life, but I can end that
I just left Hutch, I had to go and get my lens waxed
Mama got the buffs, Bitch got em' too
Gotta watch them niggas in your face, cuz they gon' plot on you
Niggas switching up, that was out the blue
Heard they taking shots, but they forgetting how to follow through
MCE the wave, niggas getting paid
I was on my knuckles, I was praying for some better days
Why the f*ck you talking money, you ain't never made it
I been stacking up, pockets stuffed up with them Caucasians
Writer: Darryl Lindsay
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid