#’s (Numbers) lyrics

[Intro]
Noisy on the beat

[Chorus]
First things first
If a n*gga ever cross the line, I'll put his ass in the dirt
Second of all I'm puttin' in work
I run this sh*t up, we ain't never gon' hurt
Keep that sh*t real, that's third
No nine-to-five, my n*ggas, they slang on the curb
They get the check by the fourth
Gotta front auntie that dope, she gon' get on your nerves
I stay with that four-fifth, go to the club, go straight to the VIP
I done got rich, I'm still in the six
Huh, young n*gga stayed down, came up from a seven
They talkin' plates, we already ate
Everybody got a sack, n*gga, we straight
n*ggas gon' hate, huh, okay
I bet this nine make his ass lose weight

[Verse 1]
Judge gave my brother ten
He hit a move for eleven bricks
Don't f*ck with 12, I'm never gon' snitch
The trap behind me, that's thirteen sticks
Fourteen, trappin' the bomb full of nicks, yeah
Stood on that Candler Road, 1'5 sh*t, hah
New condo on 16th Street, got seventeen hoes gettin' geeked
Eighteen hundred for Prada, that's on my feet
Gotta keep Glock-19
Never goin' out sad, that sh*t in your dreams
n*ggas ain't gang, they dub
Young n*ggas with me ain't 21, still in the club
I heard that boy got hit up
They say them folks hit his ass like twenty-two slugs
Two-twenty-three, that LeBron
Twenty-four for the Rollie, it wet like a pond
Whole twenty-five, I'm a don
Keep shooters with me, I still got my gun, n*gga
Broke n*gga, go get funds, n*gga
I bring your ho to Plug block and we beat up her tongue, n*gga
I got the drop on the opp, don't go back and forth, we gon' get that sh*t gone, n*gga
[Chorus]
First things first
If a n*gga ever cross the line, I'll put his ass in the dirt
Second of all I'm puttin' in work
I run this sh*t up, we ain't never gon' hurt
Keep that sh*t real, that's third
No nine-to-five, my n*ggas, they slang on the curb
They get the check by the fourth
Gotta front auntie that dope, she gon' get on your nerves
I stay with that four-fifth, go to the club, go straight to the VIP
I done got rich, I'm still in the six
Huh, young n*gga stayed down, came up from a seven
They talkin' plates, we already ate
Everybody got a sack, n*gga, we straight
n*ggas gon' hate, huh, okay
I bet this nine make his ass lose weight

[Verse 2]
Need like ten, just get in
Eleven thousand on the front end
I bet I handle that business, it come in
Run through them bands, they get blew like a fan
Them shooters pull up in Sedan
And they got bomb, Saddam
Gelato four-five in my lungs
These n*ggas pus*y, need pompoms
Big p*ssy, wrist is flooded, need ganja
Gang gon' hold it down if I ever go under
Got more pull than a Toyota Tundra
I run it back when they fumble
Big B's with me, no bumble
Big C's with me, no crutches
No, I don't gangbang but I got love for all my brothers
So many hundreds, they bust out the duffle
I play my cards how they dealt, no shuffle
They know that Candler get hot like a pepper
No Kappa, no Alpha, my young n*ggas steppers
Shawty came up, they ain't help her
Rockin' Balenciaga, no Maison Margiela
I'm with my n*ggas, we go wherever
I'll sell you whatever
They got that dope, but my sh*t better
Keep cheese like I'm taking a picture
I got cheddar, huh
f*cked as soon as I met her, huh
If you know better, do better, huh
n*gga went broke tryna get on my level
She ride that di*k like it came with pedals
One check big as your settlement
I got shooters in the front and the back, just like a president
Gucci'd down, cost your rent (Gucci, yeah, hah)