Living Great lyrics

[Intro: StanWill]
(It's Lando, your b*tch know, don't let your b*tch go, n*gga)
Haha, yeah
Yop, I got—
Yeah, okay

[Verse: StanWill]
I got money and my b*tch bad, boy, I'm living great
Left a dub up in Lenox, I was trippin' in the A
Wasn't thinking with his noggin, bullet hit him in the face
Brodie took the Faygo Firework and hit it with an eight
Tripple S broke her neck, but this c*ck broke her back
I be ridin' through the city with the Glock on my lap
Supercharged, brodie pullin' out the lot in a 'Cat
Chrome Heart did the trucker, but I'm not finna cap
Boy, your time's up, I can hear your time ticking
Trippin' in Miami, blowin' racks in the Design District
You can keep your two cents, I'm always with some dime b*tches
Used to watch 'еm ball, back when I was on the pine chillin'
Now I'm scoring, passin' plays around, feel likе Kyrie Irving
Messy eater up at Fogo de, I got my white tee dirty
Pull up in that what the f*ck, they asking me what I be skrrt-in'
Need to take your baby to the ER, it look like he hurtin'
Make 'em meet Pop Smoke, if it's smoke, we gon' pop 'em
We got butterfingers, catch the opps out, we gon' drop 'em
Man, had all these .223s, why the f*ck would I sock 'em?
Give a damn about some hoes, after I f*ck, I'ma block 'em
In a spaceship, rocket by my side, I could f*ck Gamora
I ain't gotta shoot it, I can pass to my bucket scorers
New chain on the way, I keep tellin' Hutch it's gorgeous
f*ck I look like shooting at the clouds? We gon' bust it towards him
Naw, for real, we gon' aim at his face
Make his ass disappear, I'm David Blane with the Drac'
All this chicken, all this bread, I'm Raising Cane's with the pape'
She say she don't suck no di*k, I'm finna bang in her face
Black sticks, limousine tint what I'm peeping through
If you ain't gang or my b*tch, I don't wanna speak to you
Yellow diamonds hanging off my neck, I look like Pikachu
Peekin' through the AR scope, we catch him out, play peekaboo
Yeah, catch him out, play peekaboo
Lil' brodie—, finna swing the coupe
I got—, know you see it too
If you see me with a plate, you know my n*ggas eating too, okay
You know my n*ggas eatin'
I be blowin' money up at Saks, the opps be penny squeezin'
Bro ain't got no guidance, he'll shoot that b*tch for any reason
Swear to God, I found the coldest b*tch, I won't do any cheatin'
No cap, though
All these n*ggas slimy, better lock that backdoor
He was up off EDD, I heard he back broke
If you see me with her, then she got her back broke
Point a finger, all my babies in attack mode
They'll get you
Blow you like a whistle, I swear they official
Everywhere I'm at, I got some pape' and pistols
Ninety-nine problems, but I swear money ain't an issue
Yeah
[Outro: StanWill]
b*tch, Dog sh*t Militia, you know what the f*ck goin' on
Whole lotta gang sh*t, man