Coincide - BT10 (feat. CodyMike) Lyrics

Look at this shit
How is he running with a broken leg
Dawg, he put the team on his back
Dawg, let's go inside the mind of a Greg Jennings

Dawg, I gotta do this shit
I put the team on my f*cking back though
My leg broke
I don't know how the f*ck I'm running right now though

I'll do this shit for Madden
Oh shit

Let me show you the way, just follow me
Got the blue checks and the big checks

I ain't got a tec but I protect my legacy with these projects
I ain't giving out my number to you motherf*ckers
Hit the direct, hit the DM, never gon' see 'em
Tell me why the shit you just put out
Sound just like my last BM

From the bat boy to the GM
From the crack of dawn to the PM
To the AM, FM, XM, bitch I'm serious

F*ck that, better pass that aux
Turning this whip into a box
Turn up the heat, we getting it hot
Alan to Michael, we turn up the watts
5k per the day, approx

Flip, flip, go to the sound of your lock
Bone chillin' at the sound of my knock
On my Walt White, cooking underground
Leave it burning, go and murder an opp

Just ate Wingstop with the boss
I go nonstop, while they off
At that merch shop, what it cost
Fleeced on a fleece, got what you want

Boston, top ten, locked in
We outside all summer long
Boss man, walked in, pay attention
Learn this, and sing along

To the LA, I upgrade
And get paid, every day
Every night, gotta get it right
Swerving on that 405

I be packing out the mall
All my homies off the Za
I got bitches dropping panties
Drop my kids inside they jaws

All the shit I smoke organic
I don't shop like all of y'all
I got food inside the fridge
That I never put you on, hold up

I'm a boss, I'm a don
Live exactly how I want
Got the whole team on my back
Carry them just like LeBron

I can take it to the post
Score on them from either arm
They just try to box me out
But I got it off the farm

It's all muscle, grind it, hustle
I don't trust you, so I can't f*ck with you
No bitch, I ain't love with you
Just hit it twice, I won't cuddle you

We cut it up, then I kick you out
Got another one coming in a few

Boston, top ten, locked in
We outside all summer long
Boss man, walked in, pay attention
Learn this, and sing along

To the LA, I upgrade
And get paid, every day
Every night, gotta get it right
Swerving on that 405

Don't you put that evil on me, Ricky Bobby
Don't you put that on us
No, no, no
No, he needs to know
He's always crying
Tough love it is, tough love
Wake up, idiot

F*ck you, Gumby

Cross the plane
Touchdown
Greg Jennings
49-20, man, f*ck with me