"pg baby" lyrics
You can go your own way, or leave me
You can go your own way, or leave me, baby
Uh, yeah
I can tell you ain't about to win, uh
I can tell you ain't about to win, yeah
I can tell you ain't about to win, uh
Keep them trucks up on the railing just a little bit longer
Landing make you stronger
Skin to skin with everything I pondered
So we don't take dishonor for that
Run up my commas, out the way and it won't be a problem
All my brothers climbing, we repellent to the bottom
Every second spent to never have another autumn
That was back when everyday was solemn
Now, they falling under me, I'm leading every column
Meter doing jumping jacks, I'm leaning on the pedal
So much steam left on the asphalt, they fiending to say hello
Every season, I'ma blast off and reach that different level
Got my head up on a swivel and my hand close to the metal, get the medal
Bring it back to Largo, that P.G. baby never settle
Easy day to get him silent tryna meddle
'Veil adjacent to the pot, you bet not touch it 'til it settle
And I'm hitting every shot, boy that's the fucking fundamentals
Push it with conviction, hit this mission on the code
If they said that 'Veil was missing, that shit fiction, on my soul
Ain't no permission, I envision giving me a simple road
I'm gon' take that trek alone
I'm gon' get it back in gold
Never fitting in that mold
My reflection 1 of 1, these niggas sectioned into rows
My perception one and done, it's to the next soon as you fold
I attest I'm at they neck, I'm right above they collarbone, uh
Yeah, look, alright, wait
Bitch, I can't trip 'bout shit 'cause I've fallen
Better feed my kin if you think about calling
I can tell you ain't about to win 'cause you stalling
I can tell you ain't about to win, uh, wait
Bitch, I can't trip 'bout shit 'cause I've fallen
Better feed my kin if you think about calling
I can tell you ain't about to win 'cause you stalling
I can tell you ain't about to win, uh
Uh, yeah, uh
I can tell you ain't about to win, uh, yeah
I can tell you ain't about to win, uh, uh
I can tell you ain't about to win, uh
You can go your own way, or leave me, baby
Uh, yeah
I can tell you ain't about to win, uh
I can tell you ain't about to win, yeah
I can tell you ain't about to win, uh
Keep them trucks up on the railing just a little bit longer
Landing make you stronger
Skin to skin with everything I pondered
So we don't take dishonor for that
Run up my commas, out the way and it won't be a problem
All my brothers climbing, we repellent to the bottom
Every second spent to never have another autumn
That was back when everyday was solemn
Now, they falling under me, I'm leading every column
Meter doing jumping jacks, I'm leaning on the pedal
So much steam left on the asphalt, they fiending to say hello
Every season, I'ma blast off and reach that different level
Got my head up on a swivel and my hand close to the metal, get the medal
Bring it back to Largo, that P.G. baby never settle
Easy day to get him silent tryna meddle
'Veil adjacent to the pot, you bet not touch it 'til it settle
And I'm hitting every shot, boy that's the fucking fundamentals
Push it with conviction, hit this mission on the code
If they said that 'Veil was missing, that shit fiction, on my soul
Ain't no permission, I envision giving me a simple road
I'm gon' take that trek alone
I'm gon' get it back in gold
Never fitting in that mold
My reflection 1 of 1, these niggas sectioned into rows
My perception one and done, it's to the next soon as you fold
I attest I'm at they neck, I'm right above they collarbone, uh
Yeah, look, alright, wait
Bitch, I can't trip 'bout shit 'cause I've fallen
Better feed my kin if you think about calling
I can tell you ain't about to win 'cause you stalling
I can tell you ain't about to win, uh, wait
Bitch, I can't trip 'bout shit 'cause I've fallen
Better feed my kin if you think about calling
I can tell you ain't about to win 'cause you stalling
I can tell you ain't about to win, uh
Uh, yeah, uh
I can tell you ain't about to win, uh, yeah
I can tell you ain't about to win, uh, uh
I can tell you ain't about to win, uh
Writer(s): Napoleon Crayton, Donald Breedlove, Marcus Morton
