"GRAILED" lyrics
1nonly & Freddie Dredd Lyrics
(dwilly, I'm scared)
[1nonly:]
I-I got, I got paper in this duffel, you got problems, I can tell
Hope my coffin come in stuffed wit' dope and double C, Chanel
I-I got seven-figure sales, you-you got tied up, then you fell
P-prolly spent your month of rent on lunch, your yearly spent on grailed
Ya-ya whole crew gon' die
My whole crew gon' slide, I wish you well
Wish that you would try
W-wanna get supplied, just ring the bell
Ring the bell, ring the, r-ring the bell
So much paper on me, bitch, that you would think I'm checkin' mail
G-gettin' high, smokin' 'til I leave
P-p-push up on me, pop that .9, watch me bullet feed
I think I'm late, I'm checkin' that time
Private driver parkin' out front
Wantin' that pic, better stand in line
Double R phantom outside
Backseat riding, ridin' with stars look up
I-I got, I got paper in this duffel, you got problems, I can tell
Hope my coffin come in stuffed wit' dope and double C, Chanel
I-I got seven-figure sales, you-you got tied up, then you fell
P-prolly spent your month of rent on lunch, your yearly spent on grailed
[Freddie Dredd:]
I cannot stand a motherfucker runnin' up on me
I get it quickly, we set in stone my family
Doo-doomshop killas standin' on a silly set ya heard (Ya heard)
Bullets like a bird, they flyin' through ya fuckin' church
I wonder why you crying, steady hatin', steady lying (Lying)
You said you tough, but you's a pussy now ya ass is fryin' (Fryin')
I'm loaded up, I'm steady aiming at you fucking bitches
I swear I love these switches, pull the trigger, rest in pieces
I walk the walk, I talk the talk, and I will prove it to ya
I'm 289, I'm 186, the Freddie make ya piss
I done a lot of shit to make it where I got like this
Dug my way up from the dirt, and now the Freddie's pissed
Ya run around, ya hit the ground, and now ya pleadin', baby
I cannot give no extra credit 'cause I'm fuckin' shady
I stay up in the shadows, demons, creeps, and body's shallow
I always want the battle, hear the sound, the death rattle
[1nonly:]
I got paper in this duffel, you got problems, I can tell
Hope my coffin come in stuffed wit' dope and double C, Chanel
I-I got seven-figure sales, you-you got tied up, then you fell
P-prolly spent your month of rent on lunch, your yearly spent on grailed
(dwilly, I'm scared)
[1nonly:]
I-I got, I got paper in this duffel, you got problems, I can tell
Hope my coffin come in stuffed wit' dope and double C, Chanel
I-I got seven-figure sales, you-you got tied up, then you fell
P-prolly spent your month of rent on lunch, your yearly spent on grailed
Ya-ya whole crew gon' die
My whole crew gon' slide, I wish you well
Wish that you would try
W-wanna get supplied, just ring the bell
Ring the bell, ring the, r-ring the bell
So much paper on me, bitch, that you would think I'm checkin' mail
G-gettin' high, smokin' 'til I leave
P-p-push up on me, pop that .9, watch me bullet feed
I think I'm late, I'm checkin' that time
Private driver parkin' out front
Wantin' that pic, better stand in line
Double R phantom outside
Backseat riding, ridin' with stars look up
I-I got, I got paper in this duffel, you got problems, I can tell
Hope my coffin come in stuffed wit' dope and double C, Chanel
I-I got seven-figure sales, you-you got tied up, then you fell
P-prolly spent your month of rent on lunch, your yearly spent on grailed
[Freddie Dredd:]
I cannot stand a motherfucker runnin' up on me
I get it quickly, we set in stone my family
Doo-doomshop killas standin' on a silly set ya heard (Ya heard)
Bullets like a bird, they flyin' through ya fuckin' church
I wonder why you crying, steady hatin', steady lying (Lying)
You said you tough, but you's a pussy now ya ass is fryin' (Fryin')
I'm loaded up, I'm steady aiming at you fucking bitches
I swear I love these switches, pull the trigger, rest in pieces
I walk the walk, I talk the talk, and I will prove it to ya
I'm 289, I'm 186, the Freddie make ya piss
I done a lot of shit to make it where I got like this
Dug my way up from the dirt, and now the Freddie's pissed
Ya run around, ya hit the ground, and now ya pleadin', baby
I cannot give no extra credit 'cause I'm fuckin' shady
I stay up in the shadows, demons, creeps, and body's shallow
I always want the battle, hear the sound, the death rattle
[1nonly:]
I got paper in this duffel, you got problems, I can tell
Hope my coffin come in stuffed wit' dope and double C, Chanel
I-I got seven-figure sales, you-you got tied up, then you fell
P-prolly spent your month of rent on lunch, your yearly spent on grailed
(dwilly, I'm scared)
Writer(s): Ryan Chassels, Nathan Fuller, David Bradley Wilson, Caleb Thomas Wilson, Emanuel Filipe Silva De Oliveira, Patrick Alexander Hall
