NITESIX - MANUAL Lyrics

Streets dry, said they need more
White lines, no adidas
Keep a bag at the offshore
Hit my line for the re-up
Product be floodin' the road
I need a boat for the load
My OG's done taught me the code
Stack it n stash it, collect what they owe

I wanna live like a boss
I wanna die like a don, yeah
Jefe, im callin' the shots
They only love you when you gone, yeah
Schemin, I call up my woes
I'm plottin' on commas and 0's
Pour up, im callin a toast
This for my brothers on road

Knockin all up on my door
They hate that i run up the score, yeah
Bando make more than a store
Body the game like a corpse, yeah
I get the bag and I run it up
Front runner, you a runner up
Bitch you ain't gang, then go back it up
I do not f*ck with no federals

I got a bag now u hate me
We do not talk 'less you pay me
Pull the curtains on a May-B
I'm dealin' with pain that you can't see
Money and fame, that's a fine line
It's all about peakin' the right time
The molly put me in the right mind
F*ck a percentage, it's all mine
Could care less if you was a nine
Cause dollars are worth more than dimes
I hit it three at a time
Drop top when im ridin' with slimes
I used to trap out the Denny's
I made a hunnid from pennies
I seen some homies turn enemies
Just for a piece of that equity

I wanna live like a boss
I wanna die like a don, yeah
Jefe, im callin' the shots
They only love you when you gone, yeah
Schemin, I call up my woes
I'm plottin' on commas and 0's
Pour up, im callin a toast
This for my brothers on road

Chopper 9, 5 6 7 8 times
I could make a pack flip itself, i'm makin bricks, straight outta dimes
Used to have to run around, but now i oversee
Cause im the one thats dealin with the plug out overseas, yeah
Im feedin' the fam and the ends
I cannot f*ck with your mans
Let's not pretend to be friends
Cause I know you after my bread
Give me the crown, I'm the king
Championship banners and rings
I want the finer things
Birds on the table, they sing
Late nights, I remember all the days
Not a dollar to my name
Still, I had to make a play
Why would I shoot out the range
When I could just hop in a rolls
They handed me nothin, I had to go get it
And they know I can't sell my soul, nah

I wanna live like a boss
I wanna die like a don, yeah
Jefe, im callin' the shots
They only love you when you gone, yeah
Schemin, I call up my woes
I'm plottin' on commas and 0's
Pour up, im callin a toast
This for my brothers on road