"I Suppose" lyrics
(feat. CB Fam Bizz)
[Andre Nickatina:]
This is a Hennessy, catch, you can catch it in the streets
Never on time, always late, smoking weed in the passenger seat
And I gambled like Pete Rose, new Wallabees with the clothes
At the racetrack, yo, with the Cognac
Yeah, nigga, I suppose
My apple juice is cold, my pinky ring is gold
I'm 7 Mecca 55 in the land of trues and vogues
Man, holla when you see me, yo in the mix
You know damn well, yo where I'm going with this
Like a kilo, man, can you break a brick?
Fugazi, yo, that's counterfeit
[CB Fam Bizz:]
I'm feeling myself and I'm all in the building
Making a killing, all on a bitch
Hoping one day that I'm touching a million
Stack to the ceiling and going legit
Never forget where I come from
Mustard and mayonnaise sitting on vogues
Cadillac Chevy and O's, I'm pushing dope heavy in loads
A snotty nose and dirty clothes
Now we just getting dough, blowing this weed by the O
Rolling up [?] again, the bitch told her to hoe
She fucked for the F like she sponsored by Fila
Debit or credit or tap, checking my trap
I'm making it stack up, I know that I'm getting it back
I'm spending the bag, it still gon add up
Do the math on cash or fast or dividend tens
A bottle of Hen, language you don't comprehend
A model bitch say she a ten
With all of her friends wanna play with they nose
Took of they clothes, they there for whatever
Bottle of rose or coke on the dresser
Ditto so cold, she gon need a stretcher
Told her to exit, to say what she answer
[Andre Nickatina:]
I'm such a cookie cutter, the crab leg with the butter
There really ain't another, yo Mecca get your mother
I'm really so defiant [?] Bryant
She blinding me with science, my house has new [?]
And she surprised me with the gold, the money never froze
At the horse track with the Cognac
Yeah nigga, I suppose
This is a Hennessy, catch, you can catch it in the streets
Never on time, always late, smoking weed in the passenger seat
And I gambled like Pete Rose, new Wallabees with the clothes
At the racetrack, yo, with the Cognac
Yeah, nigga, I suppose
My apple juice is cold, my pinky ring is gold
I'm 7 Mecca 55 in the land of trues and vogues
Man, holla when you see me, yo in the mix
You know damn well, yo where I'm going with this
Like a kilo, man, can you break a brick?
Fugazi, yo, that's counterfeit
[CB Fam Bizz:]
I'm feeling myself and I'm all in the building
Making a killing, all on a bitch
Hoping one day that I'm touching a million
Stack to the ceiling and going legit
Never forget where I come from
Mustard and mayonnaise sitting on vogues
Cadillac Chevy and O's, I'm pushing dope heavy in loads
A snotty nose and dirty clothes
Now we just getting dough, blowing this weed by the O
Rolling up [?] again, the bitch told her to hoe
She fucked for the F like she sponsored by Fila
Debit or credit or tap, checking my trap
I'm making it stack up, I know that I'm getting it back
I'm spending the bag, it still gon add up
Do the math on cash or fast or dividend tens
A bottle of Hen, language you don't comprehend
A model bitch say she a ten
With all of her friends wanna play with they nose
Took of they clothes, they there for whatever
Bottle of rose or coke on the dresser
Ditto so cold, she gon need a stretcher
Told her to exit, to say what she answer
[Andre Nickatina:]
I'm such a cookie cutter, the crab leg with the butter
There really ain't another, yo Mecca get your mother
I'm really so defiant [?] Bryant
She blinding me with science, my house has new [?]
And she surprised me with the gold, the money never froze
At the horse track with the Cognac
Yeah nigga, I suppose
