Monster - Jo Rodeo, Kevin Gates

Lungs full of dust like a

Walkin' through the projects, chillin' with the dope fiends

Now you know real street nigga, I don’t gangbang

Bread Winner Cartel, I’ve been to the Chain Gang

We go to Florida gonna get it out in Georgia, comin' with it

Pistol and the chicken in the navy Honda Civic

Said you know a nigga hit the flip phone

I don’t conversate with nigga’s women, I don’t sit long

Niggas get scatterless, fuck it I can handle this

Twenty K in my denim jeans, everything that I want, a jet

Aye, money turn my noodles into pasta, 22s into choppers

Even turn my shoes into Pradas, beast mode nigga, I turn into a monster

to a check, a G for the belt, 500 for the sweats

Every city I go make a complete mess, slit her throat tell your ho eat this

Stickin' and dippin' up in her she trippin', no children, in love with the hair,

the ass, million

Bitches be screamin' hey Rodeo we finally feel you, is it because I’m only

tourin' with Future?

It gotta be, I see a lot of me, there’s only one of me, he’s a wannabe

Where you gonna be, deep, probably somewhere under me

Smokin thundee tree, shoppin' at the Dollar Tree, you tryin' to doubt me,

you a gottabe

My niggas gotta eat, like I hit the lottery, the plug callin' me,

he say proud of me

Movin' this work how I feed the economy

High as a kite, bitch I’m a star, my major astronomy

Franklin keep fightin' me, honestly, ok that’s fine with me

I can’t deny degree, or, cash is cash to me

Who do I trust, me

Nothing come over my bucks, greed

You said you gon' what?

Leave

I do what I want, you say that you do but you don’t, nigga

Who do I trust, me

Nothing come over my bucks, green

You said you gon' what?

Leave

I do what I want, you say that you do but you don’t, nigga

Lungs full of dust like a

Walkin' through the projects, chillin' with the dope fiends

Now you know real street nigga, I don’t gangbang

Bread Winner Cartel, I’ve been to the Chain Gang

We go to Florida gonna get it out in Georgia, comin' with it

Pistol and the chicken in the navy Honda Civic

Say you know a nigga hit the flip phone

I don’t conversate with nigga’s women I don’t sit long

Bad vibe, exit from around you if it feel wrong

38 snub, Mac-11, and my dick long

Twenty-seven Os recompressing in the fish bowl

, Thirty-six that’s a

Automatic got me slowin' down the tempo

I don’t gotta talk women pickin' you for info

Touchdown 100 yard dash 'til the endzone

Clutch Hail Mary still prayin' that we get home

Who do I trust, me

Nothing come over my bucks, greed

You said you gon' what?

Leave

I do what I want, you say that you do but you don’t, nigga

Who do I trust, me

Nothing come over my bucks, green

You said you gon' what?

Leave

I do what I want, you say that you do but you don’t, nigga