Vent - Nasty C

Look, I’m a business minded nigga, nigga

I can sell life and take it

But I’m just a «stay up out of jail» type

I’m the type to only let them see my tail lights

I’m the type to do my shopping through a mailbox

Poppa sent me a text and told me I’m heaven sent

I never became a doctor but made me some M and M’s

They tried to keep me on the other side of the fence

And now my nigga’s living on the other side of the lens

We made it, and made it possible, bitch

Money long as a gospel song

It’s just the perfect answer when I don’t know what’s right or wrong

It’s either that or light a bong and write a song

It’s purple rain, purple rain, keep the wipers on

I work the nights and days, where you think I got my stripes did from?

Purple rain, purple rain, keep the wipers on

When Zyne gave me a shot I promised me to keep my snipers on

(Bitch go!)

Let it go, let it go (I, I, I got it)

Let it go, let it go

Let it go

I got it

And now it’s bull’s eye bro-bro

I made my people proud to be a Ngcobo

You’ll understand this shit when you can get to fly solo

And crack your brain tryna figure out if you want the door suicide or normal

That’s suicide without a pill or rope

Dude I’m out here looking like I tripped and fell in gold

Dude my album sounding like it tripped and fell in gold

These women going platinum how they out here selling souls

These bitches going platinum how they out here selling pussy

I was a diamond in the rough and then the right hands took me

The right hands found me

Success is like a song on replay everyday

I like how that shit sounding (Man!)

Fuck it man I think that shit’s a smash

I jam to that shit until I pass out

Mom I’m happy that you let my daddy smash

You know that’s my nigga I wouldn’t never leave him ass-out

I got 20k in my pocket

That’s heavy enough to keep me grounded

I don’t let the money leave, no I always keep it grounded

That’s just music to my ears and I keep it at its loudest

Look how many girls can say they had the time of their life

When I turned somebody’s daughter into a wife for the night

It’s ironic cause I’m so not tryna get cuffed

But I’m here committing crimes

With the way I’m killing time with your life

Won’t you let the game changers do the fucking thing

I’m still going, won’t you fill me up another tank

Besides my niggas I don’t know another soul to thank

We do the victory dance all the way to the fucking bank

Yeah, yeah, yeah that’s some winning shit

And you get to tell your grandchildren that you witnessed it Bad Hair