Orbit lyrics

Poppin these perkys and sippin this hi-tek
We gone send the runner to get some more sodas
I'm poppin, I gotta look over my shoulder
The streets getting colder
They just killed a n*gga right there up the block from where I used to live at
You know [?] that be the drip at
This sh*t is a cycle
This sh*t be so psycho
I live every day just like a four [?]
I got a little boy, man I'm fresh off a sentence
My son he needs Gucci so I gotta get it
This life sh*t too short, man I can't chase no b*tches
Don't be 'round no pussies, that's bad for my image
I talk to the lord and I know that he hear me
I fly off the orbit, I'm rockin' Givenchy
I step in designer, I jump out the Bentley
I used to sell heroin and crack on my pennies

I'm draped in designer, I jump out that Bentley
I step out that wing, all that fake sh*t offend me
My gang, that's my gang gone f*ck up the city
We stack up the hundreds and blow through the fifties
Just know if you with me, you with me forrealy
I Louis my sh*t just to block out the envy
Can't f*ck with these n*ggas, these n*ggas they tricky
Still poured off the red, I'm remixin' it simply
I won't even look at a b*tch if she average
Got hoes I can't text cause they don't speak the language
I dare you to sleep in the trap with the addicts
I still smell the tape when you peel off the wrapper
My last show in LA on the stage had a ratchet
I shoot out to Vegas to pick up a pack
And they countin' me up and I'm back in the stream in the whip
And I'm back and this yellow lil b*tch, blow her back out
And I'm real life, it's deep, b*tch no cappin'
I went to war with that chicken, relay to n*ggas
Just put that boy in the venue
Cut on the TV
I put the gang in them phoebes
Imported hoe off of Paris
Compare me the who? I'm embarrassed
I'm in the foreign, NO mileage
Trappin, my b*tch in the [yaris?]
Gun out the drink and we swervin'
Whoa, whoa
I'm gettin head in the venue, I'm trynna get all up in you
Huh, Huh
I work that sh*t in the middle, shawty she diggin my rhythm
Huh, whoa
I hit that sh*t in the studio, beat it to my instrumentals
Whoa, whoa
The way she eat all that di*k up, I swear I won't never forget you

Poppin these perkys and sippin this hi-tek
We gone send the runner to get some more sodas
I'm poppin, I gotta look over my shoulder
The streets getting colder
They just killed a n*gga right there up the block from where I used to live at
You know [?] that be the drip at
This sh*t is a cycle
This sh*t be so psycho
I live every day just like a four [?]
I got a little boy, man I'm fragile [?]
My son he needs Gucci so I gotta get it
This life sh*t too short, man I can't chase no b*tches
Don't be 'round no pussies, that's bad for my image
I talk to the lord and I know that he hear me
I fly off the orbit, I'm rockin' givenchy
I step in designer, I jump out the Bentley
I used to sell heroin and crack on my pennies
Whoa