179 Deli
Bas Lyrics


(Stay with me, for the ride)
(Stay with me, for the ride)

You niggas slip and slide, better pick a side
Bentley GT, see me with your bitch inside
I'm a petty nigga, I got vicious pride
Rollie meteorite, we on different time
I roll with gorillas, nigga, still I get the lionshare
My hustle keep multiplying my career
I've never been one for crying tears
That'd be absurd
I don't know how to cry, I'm Amber Heard
I'm always kinda high, you haven't heard?
Please, do not bother mine
'Cause these brothers mine
Not the kinda guys to have a word
You are the kinda guy that's on a shirt, damn
Rip, you are the kinda girl to make it work
Baby, you're all I need
Give me a night, you just need me in your life
Water, tequila and Pedialyte, Tiffany diamonds, Ebony, ivory
Baby girl, that's what I see in your life
Right, you must be high as a James Webb
Please, do not speak my name up on the low
'Cause Bassy heard all of them things said
"He cool but he outside too much and everything"
I'm not on the scene, I am the scene
I can't poli with no thottie love
You the brokest bitch I ever seen, next
I'm on these on fuck niggas heads, too
All you dick-sucking clique-jumping niggas in my ear
Tryna spit something I ain't tryna hear, bitch
Y'all in the red too, off with his head too
Don't run, nigga, arm and a leg too
Squad-type mental (stay with me for the ride)
Judgmental
Yeah

Whole gang pop uzi, one hand Bob Cousy
179 Deli, 179 Deli
Whole gang pop uzi, one hand Bob Cousy
179 Deli, 179 Deli
Whole gang pop uzi, one hand Bob Cousy
179 Deli, 179 Deli
Whole gang pop uzi, one hand Bob Cousy
179 Deli, 179 Deli

(Stay with me, for the ride)

Yo
Brother step aside, better pick a side
I been deep in life when I'm in the ride
Feeling healthy, man, I'm fully live
So it's funny how my doors are suicide
I mean, ayy, fuck your party, can't relate
Better never than late
Grew up on the darkest days
Still I gotta spread lies, stay great
Bas, my nigga, can we turn it up?
Who these baddies in here tryna fuck
Punch the numbers, tryna hurt the clock
Not a farmer, but I push a dirty Truck
Catch me in the back, lean
With the baddest lil' vibe and
What she wearing obscene
I'm just tryna see her on me
Play the game like on re
Larry Bird, I'm on green
London, city, I've been in this shit
And I've been kicking hits 'til the speakers rip
All my denims Japanese
Motherfucking blue, bitches in my jeans
Putting nigga, they're deceased
I ain't got move, I ain't got Sneeze

Whole gang pop uzi, one hand Bob Cousy
179 Deli, 179 Deli
Whole gang pop uzi, one hand Bob Cousy
179 Deli, 179 Deli
Whole gang pop uzi, one hand Bob Cousy
179 Deli, 179 Deli
Whole gang pop uzi, one hand Bob Cousy
179 Deli, 179 Deli


Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.



Written by: Abbas Hamad, Che Wolton Grant, Gage Brown, Jamil Pierre, Josh, Lydia Kitto

Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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