Pretty Flowers

[Hook: J .Molley]
I need big face, money trees
Foreign things
I bow down, pray to God
Won't answer me
Made a way for a life, that don't mean anything
Down the bottle, so I do not recall anything

[Verse 1: Stogie T]
The youngins love me for the hermans
These old niggas hating in the worst way
'Cause I am both crispy fresh and throwback Thursday
Hating from a distance but switch positions in person
Ey who birthed them
Ya'll niggas free me at the door
I'm periodic, killing shows
That's why I'm leaving through the door
Couple seasons on the road
No seasoning on my stove
Its Hibachi shrimp and chicken outta Seoul
Pleas stop the trippin'
If the bitch outta your zone
Niggas thought they had a chick
Until they saw her insta stories
The streets are vicious
They'll take chicken out your bowl
She gon miss him for a trip
To somewhere distant on the globe
And that's all she wrote
But nowhere near the level of what Stogie told
I planted the seeds for trees
But only petals grow
I guess when they get dried up
They'll say I smoked them though

[Hook: J .Molley]
I need big face, money trees
Foreign things
I bow down, pray to God
Won't answer me
Made a way for a life, that don't mean anything
Down the bottle, so I do not recall anything

[Verse 2: Maggz]
I'm on my knees, sending prayers
Hoping God can hear me
And save me from myself
And everything I'm not sincerely
And keep the market friendly
Critics lie, they jot with envy
For lousy retweets and seem deep
These cups are plenty
And they nod for many
Hate to applaud shit
Crabs in the bucket mind
Souls in a mosh pit
They quick to celebrate everything that you flawed with
Only make you a legend when you stiff in a coffin
It's nonsese
Wanna rock the boat but can't stay afloat
They can't swim where we swim
At shark infested coasts
Drowning by the thousands
This city is a pressure dome
We went from peasants to kings
We know the best of both
So I ain't sweating those
Little shots ain't getting close
Balanciaga step on toes
All this Prada press your souls
I'm ready to pay the price
This shit was hefty
I'm a beast in these streets
Cold hearted, Africa's ?

[Hook: J .Molley]
I need big face, money trees
Foreign things
I bow down, pray to God
Won't answer me
Made a way for a life, that don't mean anything
Down the bottle, so I do not recall anything

[Verse 3: Kwesta]
I should channel my Steve Biko
'Cause if I mic what I like
I might free a few
I had dreams so big, they had dreams too
Broke boy but not to these records
I'm Steve Seagal
Their lives are pretentious
Mine's bleek but I might fly out to Memphis
You an apprentice to your own shit
It's senseless
It's so sad that your music is none of your business
What a wow
I'm probably the reason these kids walking around
Screaming What A Life
I made stencils, they just spray shit
I got the six, might get a Drake on my next shit
Pretty flower, how you've grown
I wonder if you'd'a rose if I ain't dropped these flows
You started from the bottom, that's fresh
But we know before you got here
You was on a young quest