"PLEDGE" lyrics
O'er the ramparts we watched
Were so gallantly streaming?
And the rockets' red glare
The bombs bursting in air
Shot him in the chest and now he doin' the pledge (Boaw, baow, baow)
I could've lined him up, I'd rather do it instead (Do it instead)
'Cause I don't trust a soul, half these bitches be feds (Bitches be feds)
I put trust up in my Glock and all the bullets it's fed (Bullets it's fed)
I put trust up in my Glock to make sure everything dead (Mabu)
I'm the demon layin' under your bed (Where the money at?)
Life's like a panini, you could flip it and beg (Could flip it and beg)
You could twist it, turn it and burn it, but first comes the bread (Where the money at?)
Huh, like, 'cause I got bills to pay
And I got hoes to slay
And I got deals to make
I'm makin' too much noise, I'm like a swingin' door
All these CEOs, what they hittin' me for?
All my money good, I don't want no more
Matter of fact, let's not talk no more (Grrah)
A&Rs sendin' written notes, goin' back and forth, that's like a pinball
While I'm kicked back on a little boat, while I'm dolly with a can of Coke (Hahaha)
I've been on a different mode
Matter of fact, I want a bigger boat
Blackball me, I'ma pick and roll
What's two mill'? I want seven more
Look, you could be a lawyer or a doctor
I picked a different road
I'm a rap God, but the goons by my side, I'm in the middle road
Sorry, mama, got a bigger goal
Need a candy Rolls like I'm Mr. Malone
Whole world gon' be singin' my songs
I don't do it myself 'cause I'm better than most (Mabu)
Shot him in the chest and now he doin' the pledge (Doin' the pledge)
I could've lined him up, I'd rather do it instead (Do it instead)
'Cause I don't trust a soul, half these bitches be feds (Bitches be feds)
I put trust up in my Glock and all the bullets it's fed (Bullets it's fed)
I put trust up in my Glock to make sure everything dead (Mabu)
I'm the demon layin' under your bed (Where the money at?)
Life's like a panini, you could flip it and beg (Could flip it and beg)
You could twist and turn it and burn it, but first comes the bread (Where the money at?)
Were so gallantly streaming?
And the rockets' red glare
The bombs bursting in air
Shot him in the chest and now he doin' the pledge (Boaw, baow, baow)
I could've lined him up, I'd rather do it instead (Do it instead)
'Cause I don't trust a soul, half these bitches be feds (Bitches be feds)
I put trust up in my Glock and all the bullets it's fed (Bullets it's fed)
I put trust up in my Glock to make sure everything dead (Mabu)
I'm the demon layin' under your bed (Where the money at?)
Life's like a panini, you could flip it and beg (Could flip it and beg)
You could twist it, turn it and burn it, but first comes the bread (Where the money at?)
Huh, like, 'cause I got bills to pay
And I got hoes to slay
And I got deals to make
I'm makin' too much noise, I'm like a swingin' door
All these CEOs, what they hittin' me for?
All my money good, I don't want no more
Matter of fact, let's not talk no more (Grrah)
A&Rs sendin' written notes, goin' back and forth, that's like a pinball
While I'm kicked back on a little boat, while I'm dolly with a can of Coke (Hahaha)
I've been on a different mode
Matter of fact, I want a bigger boat
Blackball me, I'ma pick and roll
What's two mill'? I want seven more
Look, you could be a lawyer or a doctor
I picked a different road
I'm a rap God, but the goons by my side, I'm in the middle road
Sorry, mama, got a bigger goal
Need a candy Rolls like I'm Mr. Malone
Whole world gon' be singin' my songs
I don't do it myself 'cause I'm better than most (Mabu)
Shot him in the chest and now he doin' the pledge (Doin' the pledge)
I could've lined him up, I'd rather do it instead (Do it instead)
'Cause I don't trust a soul, half these bitches be feds (Bitches be feds)
I put trust up in my Glock and all the bullets it's fed (Bullets it's fed)
I put trust up in my Glock to make sure everything dead (Mabu)
I'm the demon layin' under your bed (Where the money at?)
Life's like a panini, you could flip it and beg (Could flip it and beg)
You could twist and turn it and burn it, but first comes the bread (Where the money at?)
Writer(s): Marcus Milosevic, Matthew Peter Deluca
