zane / walkedfarfromhome - POCKETS — Lyrics

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Yeah, mhm Yeah Mhm [Verse] I get money fore' I ask for it, make sure that my niggas straight I control my fate, the master of this whip Cruising with my shawty with the windows down Smoke a pound in a week Speeding down the freeway, dodging enemies I can't tell my bitch that I be losing sleep I'm jaded she take up my space like Jordan's when I hit her crease Thinkin' to my death, I swear I'm moving out the way Don't mistake my patience for content, you still can catch a fade Drifting violent thoughts, stay in my endless mind I ain't no nihilist, God told me I was gifted Brother hit my phone, I'm up in soho posted I'm afraid of going back home Some niggas done lost they soul Some niggas selling dope And some niggas don't got no hope They posted up on the block Auntie want another rock so he gon' get her that Don't overthink my indifference These niggas went from puffer vest to puttin' bullets up in 'em Money never stop that rage Shit been difficult since I left the page, left the town Shawty hit my phone, she tryna' match I need a eight, I ain't buyin' off the nigga if he wanna tax Division One, don't give a fuck about stats Smokin' cookie in my raw, writing thoughts 'Cause I need a bag Bitch bad and I don't need her back I need time and space alone And I don't need her in my face If she wanna argue back Get the fuck up out my way Uh
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