Regular Guy lyrics

[Intro: Freshie]
Slayer
f*ck

[Chorus: Freshie]
I'm on that bullsh*t like I'm from the Chi'
AR-15, he gon' end in the sky
Ain't have a job, I ain't wanna apply
These n*ggas be broke, he a regular guy
Yeah, hah (Yeah, yeah, Dirty)
Workin' that block, no suite or tie
The block, it get hot like we live in Dubai
Take your b*tch, honestly, do not comply
Pop out the cut, fourth of July
All of these hundreds, I cannot deny
Smokin' this gas, I think I can fly
Dirty, he dirty, they wonderin' why
Yeah, ha
It's just too dirty, man, hold on
Okay
f*ck on that b*tch and I ain't even try

[Verse 1: Freshie]
f*ck her one time, she don't get a reply
He said he know me but that is a lie
Louis V, I put that on my eye
Hundreds, they dead, all my presidents die
Think you won't, hurryin' by
I'm in the trap with a bunch of supply
Creep in your house now I feel like a spy
Hopped in the coupe and the roof say goodbye
Hopped in the coupe, I don't know how to act know
Coppers, they see me, they doin' a pat-down (Yeah, pat-down)
The money make that sound
Bullets went up, and that n*gga, he sat down
Aim right there where your head is
In love with that money, that money my fetish
I'm like a bird, I be right where the bread is
I put that money right there where my bed is

[Chorus: Freshie]
I'm on that bullsh*t like I'm from the Chi'
AR-15, he gon' end in the sky
Ain't have a job, I ain't wanna apply
These n*ggas be broke, he a regular guy
Yeah, hah (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
Workin' that block, no suite or tie
The block, it get hot like we live in Dubai
Take your b*tch, honestly, do not comply
Pop out the cut, fourth of July
All of these hundreds, I cannot deny
Smokin' this gas, I think I can fly
Dirty, he dirty, they wonderin' why
Yeah, ha
It's just too dirty, man, hold on
Okay
f*ck on that b*tch and I ain't even try
[Verse 2: Foreign Jay]
Coppers see me and they doin' a patdown
Ooh sh*t, where is the Gat now?
I took risks so my pockets fat now
Take chances, n*ggas crap out
Count up, I get cash
Them boys broke, these n*ggas be mad, uh
Run off straight to the past
Like Bape Pradas, we on your ass
Clean-up, my pockets dirty
I'm OG and these n*ggas like 30
He scared, oh, he in a hurry
f*ckin' this shawty, I think she purty
We spin your sh*t, we lurkin'
Broke-ass n*gga, go and get a attorney
I feel you was broke for too long
She suckin' my di*k to my song

[Chorus: Freshie]
I'm on that bullsh*t like I'm from the Chi'
AR-15, he gon' end in the sky
Ain't have a job, I ain't wanna apply
These n*ggas be broke, he a regular guy
Yeah, hah (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
Workin' that block, no suite or tie
The block, it get hot like we live in Dubai
Take your b*tch, honestly, do not comply
Pop out the cut, fourth of July
All of these hundreds, I cannot deny
Smokin' this gas, I think I can fly
Dirty, he dirty, they wonderin' why
Yeah, ha
It's just too dirty, man, hold on
Okay
f*ck on that b*tch and I ain't even try