Lirik Lagu Conscience feat. Future - Kodak Black
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Yeah, Project BabyThese streets took my conscienceGleeSniper GangThese streets took my conscience
Yeah, everybody with me on that same thangI don't gang-bang but I bang bangI pull up to the club, I got on eight chainsTook that bitch to Wings-N-Things, she wanna be my main
Brown liquor made my dawg insaneBooted up or geeked, it's the same thangFish scale or molly, it's the same nameMurder by the stains, which gang you claim?The big Patek face cost ten chainsTook your bitch out to eat on a private planeReal talk, 150 when it's plain JaneFucked that slut behind the dumpster for some cocaine
Ayy, free my nigga Cool, he in the chain gangChris Johnson, I swear for God I drop the twenty-eightI told my nigga be smooth (cool), he put a potato on a barrelI kick her dumbass out my crib, say she want ChanelI bought that bitch a lace 'cause she ain't got no hairI sent that poor ass hoe a Uber 'cause she ain't got no whipThirty golds in my mouth like I'm Stephen CurryThirty clip in my Glock 'cause I'm a damn Warrior
Streets left me scarred, ain't no worriesRun my money up in a hurryThirteen strippers, James HardenMoney make you greedy when you starvingMonisha, Tamica, they vouchingBefore I had anything, I was saucingBefore I had that Bentley truck, I was saucingAll these hitters, yeah, I pray you never cross them
She say she brand new, I swear I want the old herEighteen hunded, I got more stories than a authorI'm credit card swipin' at the Chase Bank (ey)Me and Future gang gang, same thangI check your temperature, nigga, is you hot or cold?Like a state trooper, I make my money on the roadI remember hittin' houses, nigga, cash 4 goldThese streets made me lose my conscience, took a nigga soul
These streets took all my soul from meTried to leave me in the coldThese streets took my conscience from meNow tough love is all I showI know my niggas got love for meAnd they filling up they noseI know my Levi got love for meShe just want everybody to know
I know my niggas, they be missin' meSo I be posted on the strawI don't even care about how much cash I seeI'm always gon' be in the 'NoI ran out of money, then they switch lanesI ran it back up, then I switch lanesIn a brand new Range, diamond colored candy caneI bought a brand new K, I can't wait to let it sprayI'm sorry mom ain't mean to bring you through so much painI said I'm sorry mom, I ain't mean for it to be this wayAyy but fuck it, bitch, I'm here, I got diamond ringsAll the finer things, designer jeans, I'm gettin' paid
These streets took my conscienceAll the finer things, designer jeans, I'm getting paidThese streets took my conscienceAll the finer things, designer jeans, I'm getting paidAll the finer things, designer jeans, I'm getting paidAll the finer things, designer jeans, I'm getting paid
Yeah, everybody with me on that same thangI don't gang-bang but I bang bangI pull up to the club, I got on eight chainsTook that bitch to Wings-N-Things, she wanna be my main
Brown liquor made my dawg insaneBooted up or geeked, it's the same thangFish scale or molly, it's the same nameMurder by the stains, which gang you claim?The big Patek face cost ten chainsTook your bitch out to eat on a private planeReal talk, 150 when it's plain JaneFucked that slut behind the dumpster for some cocaine
Ayy, free my nigga Cool, he in the chain gangChris Johnson, I swear for God I drop the twenty-eightI told my nigga be smooth (cool), he put a potato on a barrelI kick her dumbass out my crib, say she want ChanelI bought that bitch a lace 'cause she ain't got no hairI sent that poor ass hoe a Uber 'cause she ain't got no whipThirty golds in my mouth like I'm Stephen CurryThirty clip in my Glock 'cause I'm a damn Warrior
Streets left me scarred, ain't no worriesRun my money up in a hurryThirteen strippers, James HardenMoney make you greedy when you starvingMonisha, Tamica, they vouchingBefore I had anything, I was saucingBefore I had that Bentley truck, I was saucingAll these hitters, yeah, I pray you never cross them
She say she brand new, I swear I want the old herEighteen hunded, I got more stories than a authorI'm credit card swipin' at the Chase Bank (ey)Me and Future gang gang, same thangI check your temperature, nigga, is you hot or cold?Like a state trooper, I make my money on the roadI remember hittin' houses, nigga, cash 4 goldThese streets made me lose my conscience, took a nigga soul
These streets took all my soul from meTried to leave me in the coldThese streets took my conscience from meNow tough love is all I showI know my niggas got love for meAnd they filling up they noseI know my Levi got love for meShe just want everybody to know
I know my niggas, they be missin' meSo I be posted on the strawI don't even care about how much cash I seeI'm always gon' be in the 'NoI ran out of money, then they switch lanesI ran it back up, then I switch lanesIn a brand new Range, diamond colored candy caneI bought a brand new K, I can't wait to let it sprayI'm sorry mom ain't mean to bring you through so much painI said I'm sorry mom, I ain't mean for it to be this wayAyy but fuck it, bitch, I'm here, I got diamond ringsAll the finer things, designer jeans, I'm gettin' paid
These streets took my conscienceAll the finer things, designer jeans, I'm getting paidThese streets took my conscienceAll the finer things, designer jeans, I'm getting paidAll the finer things, designer jeans, I'm getting paidAll the finer things, designer jeans, I'm getting paid
