Lyrics Cousin Stizz – Toast 2 That
Text:
Cousin Stizz:
Let’s toast to that, yeah
I gotta’ make a toast for all my real niggas out there, man
All my niggas in the jail, man, we always think about you, bruh
‘Cause I know how it is to be down, dawg (Free ‘Vonte)
Feel like everybody on your «not» side, you dig
But we with you, you feel me?
Real life, yeah, ayy, yeah
Yeah, I just made a hit, so let’s toast to that
Made it home tonight, so let’s smoke to that
God keep blessin’ us, so let’s toast to that
Came up out the corner, how I’m ‘posed to act?
Loose lips sink ships, been exposed to that
Real shit never die, so let’s toast to that
Real shit never die, so let’s toast to that
Real shit never die, so let’s toast to that
Shawty talk crazy, we in all black
We in black masks, all my niggas strapped
Ayy, man, let’s toast to that
We been gettin’ money from the jump (From the jump)
I came through, felony inside my trunk (Inside my trunk)
Before rap, niggas been about them dumps, ooh
Before rap, niggas been on these chumps, ooh
I don’t how we ‘posed to fake all the funk
Yeah, I just made a hit, so let’s toast to that
Made it home tonight, so let’s smoke to that
God keep blessin’ us, so let’s toast to that
Came up out the corner, how I’m ‘posed to act?
Loose lips sink ships, been exposed to that
Real shit never die, so let’s toast to that
Real shit never die, so let’s toast to that
Freddie Gibbs:
Gangsters never die, so let’s toast to that
Fuck your bitch, and I take her on trips
But ain’t no postin’ that (No postin’ that bitch)
I had to put in that work, for the set, ‘fore I sold the bag
Whip hard and cut every seven grams, sold her this good crack (Woo, woo, woo)
I mix it up with the b-tweezy, my nigga
Vitamins good for my geekers, my nigga
The blow Trader Joe, got that organic dope
And a hunnid packs stuffed in the freezer, my nigga
We dumpin’, and drop it out
Bussin’ packets like pimple, we poppin’ off
I can’t talk on my phone, ’cause I’m talkin’ raw
Feel like Steven Seagal, I’m Above the Law
Nigga, fuck the law (Nigga fuck the)
I just cut off all my bitches, so let’s toast to that
Made a couple million, can’t let a ho get close to that
I told papi the rock it wasn’t lockin’, I sent that coca back
I had to put in that work, for the set, ‘fore I sold the bag
Cousin Stizz:
Tryna find my next drug never meant so much
And vices never cared about my age either
Money, cars, clothes, hoes, the steering wheels the same
The family
And only I could be the teacher in the end