Weeks - Kevin Gates

I ain’t took my chains off in weeks

If I tuck it, they gon' try to kill me anyway

And 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 (Off in weeks)

Love that shit too big to be discreet (To 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 dealers, all my visions then got clearer

I cross one in the mirror, I’m could feel it in my spirit (Ooh)

I ain’t took my chains off in weeks

If I tuck it, they gon' try to kill me anyway

And 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 shiver

Baby, I ain’t took my chains off in weeks (Off in weeks)

Love that shit too big to be discreet (To be discreet)

G-Wag', G-Wag', big bag, big bag

Brr-brr, so much machine smoke

Ooh only ones that ride beside me are the ones willin' to die though

Now I keep it underwater, just let it breathe

Right there

Just got this brand new thing, grrrah

And then it exchange when the shots fired

Reportin' live with the Glock .9 by the Southside (Well, what up? Well)

Recordin' live, bitch I’m in the studio right now (Money 'bout)

In Carolina, you could pull up on me right now (Pull up on me right now)

We outside, yeah, ayy

Hol' up, pour up (You dig?)

I glisten hard, my earrings, dawg

This for Mazzi, Rollie, I never take my chain off (Chain off)

Never talkin', I give that, already take your brain off (Brain off)

Quarter milli' glist', then I wiped it on my wrist

He be shootin' shots at Brasi but his posture not like this, bitch

I ain’t took my chains off in weeks

If I tuck it, they gon' try to kill me anyway

And 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 (Off in weeks)

Love that shit too big to be discreet (To be discreet)

G-Wag', G-Wag', big bag, big bag

Brr-brr, so much machine smoke

G-Wag', G-Wag', big bag, big bag

Brr-brr, so much machine smoke