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lirik lagu btflscrs – emil monter

btflscrs lyrics
i smoke the gas to slow it down in the fast life
took a couple chances on my way to get my cash right
met a couple good women we just wasn’t ready
i’d just rather chase a bag boo it’s nothing heavy

my brother growing up without me i gotta look and wave
if i can’t give em a million i’ll spin in my f* grave
this s* forever or for at least until your dying day!
real n* live forever what i’m tryna say!

i can’t lie if you i was you i would be mad too
but why you mad if you can get to the cash too!?
only rolling designer all homage got me proper
i don’t know who introduced her but they better watch her
rap n*ggas give em chanel when she f*cking for pasta
okay i got her nails cause the head proper!
we a got story be true to who you are
i made it out the jungle with beautiful scars

shout to all my n* in the fields
shout to all the ladies here with heels
i pray we all can have success in life foreal
now pop that f* bottle let that champagne spill!

because we worked for this
even though the s* we do everyday
is the s* you do on the weekend
we worked for this
this life of mine!
with pretty women and dollars signs!
plenty n* that zip you up if you outta line!

i’m always in my prime so this my greatest hits
f* her off that 42 we about to make a fl!ck
protected by blessings and weapons of course
how he say he in my league
this ain’t even that sport!
he took the years instead of life ain’t s* to settle in court
f* it ima hold the family just get right with the lord

take one a second tell yo n* rest in peace
you a boss you take yo n* out the streets
i took a loss and i got better with defeat
now when a n* win the people standing on their feet

i gotta be successful because i love expensive s*
prada, louis, chanel
i got and expensive chick
if hurt you to see me shine
this year you just gon be sick

yeah we all got a story but yours can never be this

shout to all my n* in the fields
shout to all the ladies here with heels
i pray we all can have success in life foreal
now pop that f* bottle let that champagne spill!
the s* n* die for is the s* i live with
i only sit with n* i slid with
on god that’s some real s*

- emil monter

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