Denise Murrell

[00:01.65] Ay, 150 wet, but demandin' respect
[00:04.89] I sign the front and the backs of my checks
[00:06.12] With the Curator, we chat at the MET
[00:07.96] They can't even tell that I rap, how I dress
[00:09.78] I got 250 somethin' grams on my neck
[00:11.25] Hand on my weapon, I scan for a threat, nigga
[00:15.96] Uh, I was in school writin' hood niggas' essay for cash and later finessin' the bag
[00:19.81] I'm gettin' in Heaven off grand mama prayers alone
[00:21.88] Religion a weapon, I'll pass then pad the pastor pocket
[00:24.63] Blast the rocket, mastermind, the mag, I pop it
[00:27.20] So they gotta be mad, gone for too long, so she callin' me naggin'
[00:30.07] Askin' me when I'ma get off that sad shit, hit for a bag and I call back to laugh
[00:33.65] RIMOWA attaché, stickin' magnets on it, with the K's, mainly chat in code
[00:37.43] If you really hate me, then you wouldn't pay me no attention, not trippin', cashin' on it
[00:41.01] Passionate, Casanova, way back in the gap, I hod you
[00:44.15] Ashamed, my blick back in the holster, you ain't deserve that, I was growin'
[00:47.82] Even back in my lackin', broke years, niggas wasn't actin' local
[00:50.78] Alligator patch and loafers, 25, but actin' older, on my mama
[00:56.62] Ay, 150 wet, but demandin' respect
[00:59.06] I sign the front and the backs of my checks
[01:00.89] With the Curator, we chat at the MET
[01:02.79] They can't even tell that I rap, how I dress
[01:04.67] I got 250 somethin' grams on my neck
[01:06.21] Hand on my weapon, I scan for a threat, nigga
[01:09.64] Ay, made my first million, still livin' with mom
[01:12.91] She never tripped that I ain't have a job
[01:14.62] I robbed before, I just sat up deprived
[01:16.49] Nigga tried pokin' me, I copped a rod
[01:18.20] Plotted through COVID with that on my mind
[01:19.85] Niggas don't even know what I had on the line
[01:21.45] I smile, beguile, dyin' in style, pile in a crowd, slimin' 'em out
[01:25.05] Silent as mouse, blood on my breath, quite as kept, I'm aligned with 'em now
[01:28.35] I feel like escape is futile, see the same face every few miles
[01:31.99] Play the blues, ain't nothin' to brood 'bout, married to the game with renewed vows, I just, uh
[01:38.83] Ay, 150 wet, but demandin' respect
[01:40.52] I sign the front and the backs of my checks
[01:42.03] With the Curator, we chat at the MET
[01:43.69] They can't even tell that I rap, how I dress
[01:45.33] I got 250 somethin' grams on my neck
[01:47.10] Hand on my weapon, I scan for a threat, nigga
[01:48.92]