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tsu surf - at my mother’s house كلمات الأغنية

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[intro]
realest to ever tell it n-gga

[verse]
i’m here to party, no problem clearin’ this club out
mansions, marble floors, a movie at the plug house
heart kinda cold, it be hard to give my love out
if you ain’t with the gang you can’t hang up in this clubhouse
pain in that cold cell, trappin’ makin’ phone sales
face cover that dope smell, tryna make the whole bail
who you love? who you trust? who you know gon’ put an end?
caught myself thinkin’ bout what happened and what coulda been
excuse me, them n-ggas tried to do me
don’t talk about designer, committed sin for this gucci
purgery for this prada, more franks no sinatra
a feature and a walkthrough, i charged him two choppers
leave bands for my momma, i go before she do
leader of my gang, cuz, never been a me too
solid on morals, stand on ’em, gotta keep true
brooms for the goons, sick ’em on you, tell ’em sweep through
guns out, eventually it just stop and your time runs out
see me with a teller that’s only to take the funds out
drug drought, we don’t eat then gotta take the plug out
you coulda got a scholarship, he go about the thug route
a maniac, we was out bangin’ where it was rainin’ at
how cray is that? he went out to slide but he ain’t make it back
and grind from the bottom, allegations: “he shot him.”
a witness testified and they fried him, closed case
birds flockin’, they drop and fill up the whole safe
pitch a perfect game and try make it back to home base
mirror thinkin’ where i am, can’t look at my own face
what if that n-gga survive? caught him, let him hold 8
f-ck about them n-ggas eatin’, cuz, i need the whole plate
did sh-t i had to do, comfortable with my own fate
can’t switch, gang side, duffle bag, bank job
gucci slippers fit me way better than any state slides
bought 4, made 5, couple crumbs, made pies
know who hit your n-gga, why you sittin’? why you ain’t ride?
you gang though? wonder where the pain go
feds be on the lurk around, tinted loose durango
might just say a lil bit, could never explain though
cut it with the fentanyl, it take two to tango
homicide the yellow tape, bangin’ with the tools
start hangin’ with the gang, never made his way to school
man these b-tches hit your line ‘til they find somethin’ new
they searchin’ through them lies ‘til they find somethin’ true
scratchin’ trips off my list, tryna find another view
my ex thirst trappin’ tryna find another boo, but f-ck it though
respect the hustle as long as it make it double though
even when it’s runnin’ late, even when it’s comin’ slow
thug it out, lot of transactions at my mother house
lot of transactions at my mother house

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