Quiet Storm – 23 Unofficial

Niggas talkig in my hood
I don’t care about it
Talking in my hood like they’re about it
Any violations, any passa man grab the wappa
Then come back again cah we’re about it
And I never grew up off YOLO
That’s why the work rate’s mad
They call me N’Golo, that’s Kanté
Grinding through the summer, no Zante
Team full of gunners
I control them like Santi
Forgot what I was meant to do
I think I got too high
Thinking where to fly this summer
Man I’m thinking Dubai
But Bane’s on the phone talking Miami
Any passa at a show you’ll end up in a ward
No Grammy
I was popping bottles
She was popping off the xannies
All I know, at food tonight
She’ll be popping off her panties
Came back from Birms
I was thinking to touch Manny
I was sipping on the Maggie
Bro was blowing off to Cali
Goals getting clearer
Goals getting nearer
I remember bro bussing
He had one hand in the air
Running down the road like Shearer
Tryna get a close up like, can you get nearer
I was like yo, what’s your angle?
Are you really bout it?
You would snitch like Randall
Groupy’s getting mad
I’m like wah gwan boo boo
Skipped death so many times
Got them thinking I’m doing juju
I like it
I might mix the Balmain with the Bape shit
Real niggas only
I don’t fuck with the fake shit
Fake nigga phobia
I know I’ve skipped death so many times
The mandem think it’s over here
And you know the truth talk smooth with the bop
You thought it was the moonwalk
And you don’t wanna know half of it
Just know lil bro got nicked for the narcotics
As he just walked in, looking bolo
We don’t talk much
I’m done talking like Kojo
Bro just phoned me
He said he’s finished breaking z’s
Talking bout the saucinista
I need to give that shit to Pez
Just see my akhi
So I agree with Salam
Even though we both know what I’m doing is haraam
But I, swing it on my deen
Right now I’m like potter
Got conversation with the fiend
Never had time for a mannequin challenge
I was too busy tryna add p’s to my balance
Said you move dark and light like timelines
Next thing you know the masks on just like mankind
Man they’re all sick, and they’re envy
I ain’t Sanchez
This Rastaman don’t mix with frenzy
Blowing off some sensee
Listening to Sensee
Shit I meant Sensi
Free my bro ten times
Could’ve rocked the DSQUARED2
But I’m in some Benji
Fuck I meant Benjart
Cost face
Ben what?
Bolo, Fenwa?
Bro said the cats calling back and gave him Michellin ten stars
I’m still licked off the last five
Left the dons from six
I ain’t getting home till half nine
Still the same guy with no man around me
I drop a ban on your bitch
I tell her to tell her man about me
Had a job
Didn’t make it past the first week
Bandwagon niggas still fighting for the first seat
I make noise all the trappers still feel me
If it weren’t for the music
The opps said they’d probably kill me
You sit and talk about us with the haters
While we sit in Gauchos order food with the waiters
There’s a pattern to this life shit
I see you try to hate on me
But you pattern when it’s my shit
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