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lirik lagu confession – payroll giovanni

[intro: payroll]
b mills, what up though?
bylug
4*1

[verse 1: payroll]
started out dime*stashin’, now i’m into high fashion
ridin’ past in s*classes, when i walk, my neck clashin’
chains hittin’ other chains, every day, i’m duckin’ lames
braggin’ ‘bout that petty sh*t, boy, i’m in another lane
crib with electric gates, coupes with the paper plates
scr*pe and shake in place, help a n*gga get his paper straight
pocket*watchers tryna calculate what i make a day
‘cause i been wearin’ rose gold since miskeen and […]
pointers in the cross when i’m sayin’ grace, amen
outfit almost eight bands, your b*tch told me to make plans
told me meet her at the black party, b*tch, i’m weighin’ friends
sippin’ on tea with louis gloves warmin’ up on my hands
obviously, i ain’t your man
he a pill*poppin, nappy*head, tacky motherf*cker
i’m a smooth hustler
i drink dom p and wear snug tees that smell like creed
and flood neighborhoods anytime i’m sellin’ weed

[chorus: hbk]
my confession is i’m ballin’ on ‘em like it’s my possession
never restin’, only time i sit – i’m countin’ at the westin
they can’t f*ck with me, my competition is my reflection
my confession is i got a bad louis vuitton obsession
my confession: i can’t help but to buy some sh*t that i like
go to sleep, dream about diamonds, wake up and buy some ice
my confession: i had your b*tch suckin’ me all night
went to sleep […] and woke up in off*white
my confession

[verse 2: lil blade]
detroit n*gga blowin’ california cookie
i been doin’ this, i ain’t no muf*ckin’ rookie
had to grind for this sh*t, n*ggas think i just got lucky
last time you had a run, the pistons had rodney stuckey
everybody swear they up, everybody swear they ball
but pullin’ out the gps when it’s time to hit the mall
your b*tch blowin’ up my phone, but she still won’t get a call
when i leave out somerset, they give me round of applause, n*gga
pick my sister up from school with ‘bout twenty of ‘em
they like, “what your brother do?” she told ‘em listen to my songs
young, skinny n*gga, but i still got them big bucks
i been chillin’ lately, but you still can get your b*tch f*cked
all a n*gga talk is money, b*tch, i got the hiccups
one*on*one with your b*tch, like we playin’ pick*up
i’m the young og, you know i gotta remind
could’ve bought a whip, instead, i went to louis vuitton

[verse 3: cashout calhoun]
everything i’m talkin’, i’ve done it, i ain’t seen it
and everything that come out my mouth, i really mean it
and everything that come out your mouth, we can’t believe it
it’s some real n*ggas in hoods that know i’m g*nius
i ain’t hatin’, this sh*t all facts, yall n*ggas are all caps
if fakin’*til*you*make*it was a sport, yall be all champs
got sidetracked, took a year off just to stack it up
and i know how to play these n*ggas soon as i’m back up
all that lil’ p*ssy sh*t, “they onto me,” whack as f*ck
i just put thirty of ‘em things in back of a truck
sh*t be amazin’ to yall, don’t sh*t surpise me
you ain’t pulled up to church’s to serve a five*piece
i was dinin’ after nine, they was on a crime spree
with a toothpick in my mouth, smokin’ over the receipt
you can ask anybody, really did it in these streets
callin’ shotgun in that lamb* like it got assigned seats, n*gga

[outro: hbk]
bylug, n*gga
cashout calhoun, payroll giovanni, lil blade, what up though?
jeans and ballers, n*gga?
you know who this is * hb

- payroll giovanni

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