Sanchez The Artist - MR.T Lyrics

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Okay, I'm flexin', got more ice then Mr. T
Look like I'm trappin' out the Noya, I be fly in soldieries
Marc Jacobs, Rick Owen's poppin' tags, this life ain't free

Niggas hatin', wastin' time, spend their life to look like me
I put 10,000 on his head, my lil' niggas'll get you wacked
F*ck my bitch, I break her back
Tear it up and pull her tracks

Off that drink, I'm sippin' ac
Got addicted to this lifestyle, I ain't never goin' back
I got Dior on my chest and I got Vlone on my back
Every time I hop on the beat, no DJ Khaled yea we the best

I put my left wrist and my right wrist in the bowl , I'm whipping crack
Ok im back up in my bag, no chitter chat
Send your location, bae, I'm on the way to wherever you at
If it get cold, I got your back

Never broke, I got them racks
Movin' forward, no lookin' back
Build a bond, now we attached
If I got caught up in some shit and had them police on my back

I know that you would hold me down
Cause you was there for me since scratch
Cause I got
Bad models, bitches, they be sexin' on me

Baguettes on my neck, I ain't flexin' homie
Know I keep the Tec, don't disrespect me, homie
When a nigga was down, no one checked on me
Murakami down to the vest, homie

Smokin' on a pound, got the best on me
Take a bitch to poundtown to get the stress off me
Amiri with the Rick got that check on me