Orbit - Retch

Poppin these perkys and sippin this hi-tek

We gone send the runner to get some more sodas

I’m poppin, I gotta look over my shoulder

The streets getting colder

They just killed a nigga right there up the block from where I used to live at

You know that be the drip at

This shit is a cycle

This shit be so psycho

I live every day just like a four

I got a little boy, man I’m fragile

My son he needs Gucci so I gotta get it

This life shit too short, man I can’t chase no bitches

Don’t be 'round no pussies, that’s bad for my image

I talk to the lord and I know that he hear me

I fly off the orbit, I’m rockin' givenchy

I step in designer, I jump out the Bentley

I used to sell heroin and crack on my pennies

I’m draped in designer, I jump out that Bentley

I step out that wing, all that fake shit offend me

My Guinness, my game gone fuck up the city

We stack up the hundreds and blow through the fifties

Just know if you with me, you with me forrealy

I Louis my shit just to block out the envy

Can’t fuck with these niggas, these niggas they tricky

Still poured off the red, I’m remixin' it simply

I won’t even look at a bitch if she average

Got hoes I can’t text cause they don’t speak the language

I dare you to sleep in the trap with the addicts

I still smell the tape when you peel off the wrapper

My last show in LA on the stage had a ratchet

I shoot out to Vegas to pick up a pack

And they countin' me up and I’m back in the stream in the whip

And I’m back and this yellow lil bitch, blow her back out

And I’m real life, it’s deep, no cappin'

I went to war with that chicken, relay to niggas

Just put that boy in the venue

Cut on the TV

I put the gang in them phoebes

Imported hoe off of Paris

Pay me the who?

I’m embarrassed

I’m in the foreign, NO mileage

Trappin, my bitch in the

Gun out the drink and we swervin'

Whoa, whoa

I’m gettin head in the venue, I’m trynna get all up in you

Huh, Huh

I work that shit in the middle, shawty she diggin my rhythm

Huh, whoa

I hit that shit in the studio, beat it to my instrumentals

Whoa, whoa

The way she eat all that dick up, I swear I won’t never forget you

Poppin these perkys and sippin this hi-tek

We gone send the runner to get some more sodas

I’m poppin, I gotta look over my shoulder

The streets getting colder

They just killed a nigga right there up the block from where I used to live at

You know that be the drip at

This shit is a cycle

This shit be so psycho

I live every day just like a four

I got a little boy, man I’m fragile

My son he needs Gucci so I gotta get it

This life shit too short, man I can’t chase no bitches

Don’t be 'round no pussies, that’s bad for my image

I talk to the lord and I know that he hear me

I fly off the orbit, I’m rockin' givenchy

I step in designer, I jump out the Bentley

I used to sell heroin and crack on my pennies

Whoa