Louie Ray - Heavenly lyrics

[Intro] 313 Mafia (Yeah), Yeah Okay Stupid Dog, I ain't gon' lie, this b*tch hard Every time, yeah I be feelin' like- Yeah, ni**a [Verse] I be feelin' like ni**as ain't really want me to win Here's the b*tches who forgot about me on my dick again ni**as ain't gon' ride for they partners, how they scream You look at the streets- Yeah, okay You look at the streets different when you saw 'em how I seen Trappin' out the terrace, my apartment building clean Police know that we ain't gon'- Yeah (Okay) Police know that we ain't goin', gotta kill us on the scene Gun too big for the shorts, I'm in some jeans (Yeah) Long as it's black or white, I saw me in a- Ah! Long as it's black or white, you prolly' saw me in a tee Two warehouses to grow, like Miami, all trees (Trees) I be cool by myself, leave me with the fiends And the plug that ain't runnin' out of n- And a plug that ain't runnin' out of nothin' that I need b*tch ain't worth sh*t, I mean she nothin' that I need Quit talkin' 'bout your paper, quit comparin' it to me I ain't a pimp, but if she got it, then she sharin' it with me My plane done took off, it ain't no landin' for me Our lives do matter, but who's sayin' it for me (Huh?) Walkin' out the trap, bag bustin' full of beans (Damn) Bustin' out a sprinter, but was bustin' out a sleeze Caught my dutches on the drank, these hoes judge how I lean Mug on my face, Why I fu*k? 'Cause her cat mean Blunt in my mouth, why I puff, this sh*t canotee Okay, I heard yo' standards high as sh*t, but can you handle me? (b*tch), Yeah, ni**a, trip the Volks- I'ma trip the Volkswagen out, give it wraith seats Push stars in this b*tch for when we can't sleep ni**as prolly' made a lil' dough, but they ain't make me I know I'm sittin' on a quarter-ounce, ni**a 'waste these If you somebody jealous of this sh*t, you finna hate me Told the b*tch to give me twenty minutes, only take three Stash box right under the clock, ni**a take beef I done kept it real so long, you couldn't fake me Four rings 'one hand, but I played three You the type to play it like you got it, but I play it cheap If I got it, I'ma get us out of there, 'cause I don't play sweet Trackhawk got her cat caught, this not the play, G Still out here in my hood, we don't play like the celebrities Pick a ni**a up, like a 'fro in the 70s They always play the audio back, like it's heavenly Still got 25 hoes, Bill Bellamy (Okay) Cook a ni**a, or get the work cooked, it's a specialty [Outro] ni**a (ni**a) Yeah Stupid Dog, I ain't gon' lie, this b*tch hard Cook a ni**a, or get the work cooked, it's a specialty