Suffer lyrics

[Intro]

Kid Wond3r, you made this beat?

Gang, aye

Out west 290 shit, you know how I'm rockin', nigga

Get your guns up, get your funds up

You on that opp shit, get mob sticked, bitch

[Verse]

I hit the mall, Gucci, Louis, Fendi, I just buy it all

Shout out to my shooter, he retarded, he ain’t got it all

Must be drunk, bet you had you too much of that alcohol

John Wall, bitch I shoot, but I don't play no basketball

Could've, should've, would've, but you didn't

Double G, my Gucci shirt is linen

I put Forgiatos on a Bentley

Windows tinted, they can't see who in it

I ain't been broke in a minute

They ain't sold dope in a minute

Back in the days, I sold plenty

'Cause minimum wage wasn't gon' get it

We gangbang, nigga, rep your set, what the fuck you claim

Thick bitch, tattoo on her ass, yeah, that be my name

Talk shit, I'ma get you changed for a piece of change

Walkin' lick, silence on the stick, you won't hear a thing

Sold dope from my grandma house, 'cause I'm a hustler

You might get a discount if you a customer

Yeah, I think you's a rat nigga, you hang with bustas

This bitch say she in love with me, but I don't trust her

I pulled up, I'm in a Tesla, the color mustard

You police, you tryna cuff her, I'm tryna fuck her

She callin' me, I blocked her number, I'm tryna duck her

Leave niggas with the shitty face, I make 'em suffer

Got racks up in the pillowcase and under the covers

You in a turtle race, I got a quicker pace, I'm gettin' bigger cake

Bigger cake up on my dinner plate, what should I eat today?

Aim at your head, crack it like a egg, you think its Easter Day

I just bought my shooter Rugers, fuck her, send her in a Uber

I'm a winner, you's a loser, fuck the teacher and a tutor

The feds watch my stash house, I gotta watch how I maneuver

You make me bring my mask out, you'd think that I was Freddie Kreuger

They find you with your ass out, now you smellin' like manure

I picked up my shell casings, dump them bitches in the sewer

We shot up the family reunion, bitch, we some party poopers

I fucked her and sold her a dream, I think I'm Martin Luther

You fucked up, think you can fuck with me, you got me fucked up Like Rosa,

Feet kicked up, sittin' on the back of my tour bus

When I left the strip club, I pulled out doin' donuts

Ride Forgios and Velanos while your car on donuts

Niggas sneak dissin' and don't even know us

You say you 'bout it, you gon' have to show us

Run off with your money like janky promoters

My car is my baby, I roll like a stroller

And we pop your top like some strawberry soda

These bankrolls on me be so big, I can't fold 'em

And we empty Glocks, double back and reload 'em

I ran out of coke, so that soap what I sold 'em

It's so many grams in these blunts, I can't roll 'em

Got so many bricks on them boats, I can't float 'em

These pistols got bodies, but we still gon tote 'em

Won't aim at your body, them caskets, we close 'em

[Outro]

Kid Wond3r, you made this beat?

Damn

Skrt, skrt

• Artist:Lud Foe
• Album:No Hooks 2 (2017)