Quilly - Quilly

Yeah, flow is silly

Nigga all the hoes want Quilly

Take a trip to Miami when it’s cold in Philly

You can have the Projects I just hopped off a private jet

I’m on another level, you still sittin' on steps

Quill so great

Yeah I know, you still gon' hate

I’m at Felipes watching Mr. Chow grill my steak

I turned my first down into a Moncler

And then I turned my Rolex into Times Square

Hang around bum niggas, you gone be off

I hang around king pings, Imma be a boss

Bring me more mussels I go heavy on the sauce

My hoodie cashmere I’m cut from a different cloth

She know me by my government and rap name

Smokers call me Q, yeah that’s my trap name

I used to scramble over beans then the racks came

I used to shoot the 38 until the mack came

I came up from the seven like a crack game

These niggas runnin 'round tellin, playin' rat games

I’m at the dealership dropping all change

These youngins' going broke tryna buy Balmain

First they hate me then they love me again

She had a man, now she single so we fuckin' again

I change clothes like flows never stuck in the trend

I book money up, fuck it up, tuck it again

One of closest friends told we don’t speak nomore

I rest when I rest in peace I don’t sleep nomore

I at an all you can eat so I can eat nomore

I’ve been faithful to the money, I don’t cheat nomore

They tried to lock me in the cell, put my life in the box

But Imma make a few Mil' rather you like it or not

I turned the flame up, baking soda, ice in the pot

I spent nights on the corner, came back wit a watch

I spit crack no baggies all caps for this

Show money just to think I used to trap for this

Uh shit goofy, my Rolli' like Disney Land

I’m from the streets, I used to sleep in my minivan

Whippin' grams you only wavy on Instagram

I been wavy since niggas was on minute plans

You keep talkin' about times is hard

You can make time easy go grind some hard

When I was locked up, bitches ain’t write no kites

I miss Dirt Bike Rell, he was nice on bikes

Rest In Peace my nigga Bleak he was killin' em too

You be rappin' bout foreigns, I be bringing them through

Uh, Just left Barney’s, call freak for a fresh cut

Why these rappers keep talkin' bout they next up?

I look better dressed down when you dressed up

It’s OnDek, you need a G5 to catch up

No picks, a bad bitch can get the curve ball

Knock a bird off and then burn down birds off

I’m tired of killin clubs, got me burned out

One night with the gang, now she turned out

Hop out the Bentley, hop in the sprinter

Got tired of losing, I’m living life as a winner

Got tired of oodles and noodles, chicken for dinner

They know me in Ruth’s Chris, you a beginner

I gotta private school my son cuz I ain’t go to school

What the fuck you snitch for when you know the rules?

33 shots in the 57

Boots string hangin' round the Mac 11

Killed my mixtape, intro, outro

Horses in the four-door, it ain’t Ralph tho

You gettin' money, but you told like Alpo

If it’s beef imma let the 40' cal go

Red bottoms with the spikes

My brother drink purple, no sprite

She gave me top, I ain’t even bite

I should do it to her friends out of spite

You already know what it is man.

Keep sleeping

Wake the game up.

Quilly 2 nigga.

What it do, uhh, uh