Kost Cartel lyrics

[Intro]
Helluva made the beat, baby

[Verse 1: Payroll Giovanni]
For one P, I get [?]
No short cuts to ball, I'm in a full length [?]
Used to trap, take money from packs, and rap it up in the wrap
Now I'm in Cali, bagging up in the bag
In the spot, all we had was [?] heaters and straps
Now it's marbel on the floor, with the counter to match
Eating sushi while the money counters counting the stacks
Went from hoopties to a Benz with a strap on my lap
Patek on my wrist, but I'll sell it for [?]
Bricks re-up a couple times, buy some cribs and a new [?]
Was studdieing the game, and had time for that hoop sh*t
Call shots from a rooftop, while I'm in Ruth's Chris
In Six Mile, I'm good, 'cause they know me from Scooch clique
I'm on [?] ride round in that coupe six
[?] plugged in with them goons, b*tch
The bosses back around, move inside and make room quick

[Verse 2 ?]
My wife won't keep her hands to herself, 'cause I'ma fight back
I took my son to Gucci, bought some shoes that cost a light stack
Y'all ain't no [?] where the f*ck your n*ggas' ice at?
Hold on, hold on, let me start over, I ain't like that
'm rich [?] talking 'bout I look [?]
I bent her over, f*cked her booty while [?]
[?] permition from her n*gga, I just took her
You see this A.P. went for 70 like Devin Booker
This percie got me charged, I get to f*cking like a [?]
I ain't got no time to beef with a n*gga that ain't got no watch
I shot the last n*ggas for no reason, that was bro's opps
My blood [?] when I go cop
My b*tches know I got the b*tches, we be f*cking b*tches
I know who killed your man, but I shut up and mind my business
Everybody think I'm pimpin, but [?] got the hoes
Where the f*ck you n*ggas [?] just got froze
[Verse 3 ?]
You so broke, the only thing you can do for your b*tch is f*ck
Throw some cash at your mouth, if [?] zip it up
My only New Years resolution, to be rich as f*ck
Lost five betting [?] I sware them n*ggas suck
[?] to a boss, shout out to [?]
The freshest in the city, hat's when I'll come and scam
Gotta love all [?] so I really don't f*ck with ham
[?]
You ain't never tip a [?] at Ruth's Chris
Counting bread while she staring at my ring, two six
[?] cash out your ho, knew her 'cause she a groupie
Threw the [?] on it, [?] [?]
She giving me hella [?], I'm spending my bread at Louie
Got a passion for winning, that just attract the women
She [?] me to f*ck, not once did I ask to hit it

[Verse 4 ?]
Getting money with the [?] guala gualas
I call my cousin [?] if we got a problem
The only problem that we got is running out of prodict
Mazerela, Goota, Chetter cheese, I forgot Ricotta
When I'm on a yacht, the only time I drive the boat
Ten bricks, n*gga, what is this, some kind of joke?
My plug pulling up, he drive a Ghost
He might be in a Mazarati though, that n*gga look like Fivio
Peter [?]
Styrophome cup in my hand, but I'm not drinking coffee
Fifty bands to [?] got the people off me
I'm supplying n*ggas, he don't even know he eating off me
Sandwich bags and raizers, b*tch, I'm Albert [?]
Smuggled a million cash in a travel bag to Vegas
I'm a made man, our family values sacred
Death to anybody ever wrote us in a staitment
[Verse 5: Dre Armany]
AK on the beat
Feeling like I'm stuck, 'cause I'm still in the streets
n*ggas always asking like, Dre, when you dropping?
I've been in and out doing whole sale copping
These the last ones, grab [?]
Me and Me and Giovanni in a drop Benz
Hit Sacks, grab a [?], n*gga, all tens
I don't f*ck with H, lil baby, all I do is tens