Takeoff: Last Memory

woke up this morning
can’t remember nothing
2 bitches just flew in from London
las thing I remember they callin’ me Daddy
the mattress was covered in money
went to sleep with my jewelry and chains on
had to wake up
and recount the money
I got a bitch, she gon’ kill for real
talk about Clyde and Bonnie

coupe with the kit, cope it
pull up with a stick, stop it
rich nigga shit, silent
old hunnids, pockets rotted
I got to space with the stars
might smoke a blunt with my pilot
Saturn, Moon, Earth and mars
NASA takeoff with the rocket

half a million on a necklace
young rich niggas we successful
said she wanna feel special
that coco maker her special
I count a hunnid or better
I might go put all my chains on
I just might change up the weather
she pop a perc, her pussy wetter
I met the bitch at Coachella
is she Nutella?
she probably do better
But I get a E for effort?
I prayed to God to wash my sins

nothing formed against me
not a weapon
ask Him where di I begin
devil tryna take my blessings
they don’t know the meaning of the while
you don’t really live this life
noggas in the hood shooting twice
see my niggas in the hood shoot precise
real wise, we ain’t taking no advice
I trealized that these hoes ain’t right
don’t even ask
cause they know what’s the ptrice
ain’t gotta snow
the already know it’s white

I talk to God cause I been baptized
I got mobties nto the nawf side
pull up wth ethe sticks on the niggas
straight slime
they gon’ make the nawf side high crime
better not hit a ick with these niggas dropping ten
hit a ick with these niggas dropping dimes
fucking on her friend
I’ma break back her in
looking at the watch
I can’t waste time

woke up this morning
can’t remember nothing
2 bitches just flew in from London
las thing I remember they callin’ me Daddy
the mattress was covered in money
went to sleep with my jewelry and chains on
had to wake up
and recount the money
I got a bitch, she gon’ kill for real
talk about Clyde and Bonnie

coupe with the kit, cope it
pull up with a stick, stop it
rich nigga shit, silent
old hunnids, pockets rotted
I got to space with the stars
might smoke a blunt with my pilot
Saturn, Moon, Earth and mars
NASA takeoff with the rocket