Testo Weeks - Kevin Gates
Testo della canzone Weeks (Kevin Gates), tratta dall'album Weeks
I ain't took my chains off in weeks (off in weeks)
If I tuck it, they gon' try to kill me anyway
'Cause I'm prayin' to the god of the streets (god of the streets)
Way too big to be discreet anyway
Hope I fly on the arms of my niggas
Wonder why my heart cold, nigga soul got the shivers
Baby, I ain't took my chains off in weeks (chains off in weeks)
Love that shit, too big to be discreet (be discreet)
He tried to set me up in Dallas, broke into his own car (hahahaha)
He not knowin' that I'm psychic, and I glow in the dark
Lied on us while in Houston, we got throwed in the cross
Sidestepping 'fore he could set me, punch a hole in my heart (ha)
Cold quarantine game, I looked over your flaws
Big god, sellin' raw and I'm controllin' the cost (ugh)
Diamonds on my neck, that's a symbol of success
Run you up a check, you gon' die for your respect
Cautious who you entertain, they could be a threat
Out of pocket, pull up brrrr on you, leave you somewhere stretched (stretched)
Artificial dealings, all my visions then got clearer
I cross one in the mirror, I can feel it in my spirit (ooh)
I ain't took my chains off in weeks (off in weeks)
If I tuck it, they gon' try to kill me anyway
'Cause I'm prayin' to the god of the streets (god of the streets)
Way too big to be discreet anyway
Hope I fly on the arms of my niggas
Wonder why my heart cold, nigga soul got the shivers
Baby, I ain't took my chains off in weeks (chains off in weeks)
Love that shit, too big to be discreet (be discreet)
G-Wag', G-Wag', big bag, big bag
C-note, C-note
Brr-brr, so much machine smoke
Ooh, only ones that ride on side me are the ones willin' to die though
Nuh-uh, keep it underwater, let it breathe
Right there
Just got this brand new thing, grrrah and then exchange when the shots fired
Reportin' live, with the Glock .9, by the stop sign
Recordin' live, bitch, I'm in the studio right now
In Carolina, you could pull up on me right now
We outside, yeah
Hol' up, pour up, I glisten hard, my earrings, dawg
This for Mazzi, Rollie, I never take my chain off
Never talkin', I give that, already take your brain off
Quarter milli' glist', then I wiped it on my wrist
He be shootin' shots at B.R.A.S.S.I. but his posture not like this, bitch
I ain't took my chains off in weeks (off in weeks)
If I tuck it, they gon' try to kill me anyway
'Cause I'm prayin' to the god of the streets (god of the streets)
Way too big to be discreet anyway
Hope I fly on the arms of my niggas (arms of my niggas)
Wonder why my heart cold, nigga soul got the shivers
Baby, I ain't took my chains off in weeks (chains off in weeks)
Love that shit, too big to be discreet (be discreet)
G-Wag', G-Wag', big bag, big bag
C-note, C-note
Brr-brr, so much machine smoke
G-Wag', G-Wag', big bag, big bag
C-note, C-note
Brr-brr, so much machine smoke
Credits
Writer(s): Alexander Izquierdo, Kevin Gates, Zulema Cusseaux, Anderson Hernandez, Matthew Jehu Samuels
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