Paroles de la chanson Servin Myself par Money Man

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Paroles de la chanson Servin Myself par Money Man

(Ayo, Manzz)
Haha, refund not a scam

I was on Waldrop servin' myself
I was on Candler, I was servin' myself
I was on the trap, I was servin' myself
Servin' half blind, they don't know how that felt
Servin' no peripheral, they don't know how that felt
Stuffin' grams, dog, don't know how that felt
Drop a pin, dog, I'ma bring 'em to you
I'll fuck around, got chills in the booth
She was thirty deep in the spot, I was solo
Hoppin' out, walkin' in, servin' him ten bowls
Servin' these niggas from the backseat on Glenwood

Then a nigga car steal a case out of Ellenwood
Ridin' through serenade, catchin' them plays
Used to throw the profit on the bitches at Blaze
Columbia, dry serve a nigga at Checkers
Hit a lot of licks, we was livin' real reckless

Me and B, with his lil' bro had to strike
Left a hundred-K in the crib at night
Drop a whole pint in the red at night
12 got behind us and we fled that night
???[0:53] caught a red-eye flight
Shot by himself, could've lost my life
I'm seein' death, keeps me cryin' at night
I'm seein' death, it's cryin' at night
Hit a few plugs that weren't my worth
I don't understand, had to feed my child
They don't understand, had to feed my mama
Runnin' my city with a dirty ass chopper

Me and ???[1:08] ran up with shawty
We was at the house, countin' eighty-K large
Real deal trap shit, why would I lie?
Real deal scam shit, why would I lie?
???[1:16] took my eye
I ain't ever let a nigga take my fire
Smoke, hit a lick, then we dropped it on me
Shawty hit a lick, then dropped he 'em on me
Had a ho Eastside, shoppin' with me
Prices so cheap, they couldn't argue with me
So many flavors, I had a white boy plug
You used to count four-hundred fiftys and dubs
Leave my chopper by the grace of god
Stampin' in doors, that swipe
Real plug, door sale price
Yeah, nigga came with the ice
Nigga got hard like a vike'
Baby, your loyalty pricy

I was on the block, I was fightin'
I was in the bando, writin'

I was on Waldrop servin' myself
I was on Candler, I was servin' myself
I was on the trap, I was servin' myself
Servin' half blind, they don't know how that felt
Servin' no peripheral, they don't know how that felt
Stuffin' grams, dog, don't know how that felt
Drop a pin, dog, I'ma bring 'em to you
I'll fuck around, got chills in the booth
She was thirty deep in the spot, I was solo
Hoppin' out, walkin' in, servin' him ten bowls
Servin' these niggas from the backseat on Glenwood
Then a nigga car steal a case out of Ellenwood
Ridin' through serenade, catchin' them plays

Used to throw the profit on the bitches at Blaze
Columbia, dry serve a nigga at Checkers
Hit a lot of licks, we was livin' real reckless

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