Soul Searchin (Bonus)

Me and my nigga Erik in the stu we cooking shit (oh) Me and my nigga Erik in the stu we cooking shit Cant go outside cos these niggas they be toting blicks My homeboy died cos he was out serving bricks aye Me and my nigga Erik in the stu we cooking shit Cant go outside cos these niggas they be toting blicks My homeboy died cos he was out serving bricks (my homeboy died cos he was out serving bricks) Speeding in a fast car This shit like NASCAR Big body wraith it got hella stars Trynna go platinum for the times they said I wouldn't make it this far Now I gotta crib with a garage that hold ten cars When I drop this album, I hope I make my mommas proud Have you sitting backstage at my shows at Rolling Loud I just wanna see all my friends standing out there in the crowd Just got off the phone with grandma, said she want another house Chrome Heart shirts don't fit no more When you met me I told you I don't love no more Still gave you my heart and you walked out the door We could've been perfect But you want a damn Birkin Send her ass soul searching Swear to god these hoes be lurking Me and my nigga Erik in the stu we making hits Cant f*ck with basic bitches cos they use my name to get lit I told my girl to book a flight cos we gone make some trips Birkins is to easy, Imma take you out to Saks Fifth Bust you down in Comme Des Garcon cos that's some real drip Put you up in that Prada whenever you say you proud of me And I gave you my heart more then once so baby don't you ever leave I locked my heart up and I even threw away the key I put my heart into this shit to not make it out Making this musics the only way I can let it out Man f*ck Rolling Loud Cos I be rolling loud Hop up in that V12, thats how i'm skirting out Private jets to Cancún, thats how i'm traveling now Goyard bags, I feel like Uzi now Stuck in my past, I'm just trynna move on We could've been perfect But you want a damn Birkin Send her ass soul searching Swear to god these hoes be lurking