R2 - 22gz

Life ain’t a game for me, nigga, but maybe for you

If I call up my shooter, he spamming R2

Opp in the morning, we waking up early, we spinning right now, we ain’t

spinning at two

Walk with that sprayground, you know ain’t no books in the bag, you know that

I’m keeping that tool

All my old friends, they mad at me 'cause I got up like I stepped on a stool

Niggas on Snapchat saying they proud of me, niggas ain’t said nothing to me in

school

I know my teachers is proud of me, lil' black nigga who always would talk

We finna run in his pockets, we taking that shit, piece of bacon,

that boy a piece of pork

I had to hop on a drill beat, show these lil' niggas how we do that shit in New

York

Niggas, they found out New York had the sauce when they heard that big Pop Smoke

Bitch, I feel like SB in them Carti’s, you know when I got 'em on,

I don’t wanna talk

Shoot up the party, I’m leaving that shit like a quarantine, one false move,

that boy gotta go

Youngest in charge, pulling they cards, walk up, slide in the car (Slide in the

car)

We catch him walking, bet he regret all that shit he was talking (Shit he was

talking)

Tryna go against me, that’s a forfeit (Forfeit)

These VV’s on faucet (On faucet)

22 the king of New York, bitch (22 the king of New York)

So much Louis, I need an endorsement (Hold on, hold on)

If I call up my stepper, he knocked out his shoes (If I call up my stepper,

he knocked out his shoes)

My diamonds, they dancing, he reaching, I’m back on the news (Boom-boom-boom,

back on the news)

If I use the revolver, they won’t have a clue (They won’t have a clue)

Pick a side, ain’t no playing the middle so you better choose (So you better

pick, pussy)

They gon' do it for free, I ain’t paying no shooters (I ain’t paying no

shooters, hell no, paying no shooters)

She said she tryna eat, threw that bitch in an Uber

Screaming out jugg like that nigga Scooter (Jugg, jugg, jugg, bands, bands)

She give māthā, brain like a tutor (Māthā, māthā, māthā, māthā)

Life ain’t a game for me, nigga, but maybe for you

If I call up my shooter, he spamming R2

Opp in the morning, we waking up early, we spinning right now, we ain’t

spinning at two

Walk with that sprayground, you know ain’t no books in the bag, you know that

I’m keeping that tool

All my old friends, they mad at me 'cause I got up like I stepped on a stool

Niggas on Snapchat saying they proud of me, niggas ain’t said nothing to me in

school

I know my teachers is proud of me, lil' black nigga who always would talk

We finna run in his pockets, we taking that shit, piece of bacon,

that boy a piece of pork

I had to hop on a drill beat, show these lil' niggas how we do that shit in New

York

Niggas, they found out New York had the sauce when they heard that big Pop Smoke

Bitch, I feel like SB in them Carti’s, you know when I got 'em on,

I don’t wanna talk

Shoot up the party, I’m leaving that shit like a quarantine, one false move,

that boy gotta go

Keep that, keep that

Grah, grah

That’s hard