Grafh, Bun B, 38 Spesh and Stove God Cooks - Life Is Beautiful

Yeah
The trill OG in this bitch
Yo, Grafh
I don't know if we ridin' somethin' old and classic
Or somethin' new and foreign, but we ridin' on these niggas

Baby, I'm a star and my constellation's the Big Dipper
Your lady call me daddy when she pullin' on my zipper
And, yeah, I might tip her, but I'll never fall in love with a stripper
I'd just as soon eat my supper out my slipper
Double cupper, I'm a sipper of the finest pharmaceuticals
Breakin' down the bud 'til it's cannabis in my cuticles
A soldier from the South and man, I represent it dutiful
Plus we gettin' to the bag, nigga, my life is beautiful
Tapped in with Grafh, that's his name and don't forget it
Put a bag on your head like it's rainin', ho, 'cause you can get it
And even if we get charged and you take the stand and tell 'em we did it
It makes no difference 'cause we still get acquitted
Now when you reach the status we done made it to and they afraid of you
And you no longer concerned what a hater do or say to you
That's when these overblown niggas find out that they deflatable
And me and Grafh sit at the table and make a plate of you (ah)

We was bangin' 1-800-HUSTLER
I cooked eighteen hundred ounces, fucked the summer up
Some of us ain't never look back once we went in trap mode
Seven on my face, bitch, I am god, I am black gold
That stove on my neck cost ten of your mama houses
Crystal chandelier, marble floor, Balenciaga couches
Ounces gave me life, I knew them kilos'd make me live forever
It's sheep and then it's shepherds
It's shooters, then it's niggas that's just runnin' for the exit
My wrist circle like a Lexus
Don't compare them broke niggas to the rest of us
We had a hell of a run
Show you how to turn thirty-six to a seventy-one

Ayo, been turnin' water to wine, now I'm too tipsy
I still turn one twenty-five into two fifty
Shot after shot, bulletproof kidney
It went in soft, now it's too crispy
You soft, you are too Disney
I'm a boss, trapper or a rapper, pick a hustle
Nigga, how you broke and you lazy? Pick a struggle
Too many choices, too many drugs, I could pick a couple
I ménage, go in the lesbian club and I pick a couple
You can get shot wherever you like, pick a muscle
I lift the muzzle if you lift a muscle
Nigga, food for thought, I'll rattle your skull 'til the dinner shuffles
Uh, I treat a body bag like it's a duffle, I make 'em believe again
You never shopped with me, come and see it then
I ain't sellin' you shit if I don't see you put the needle in
I don't believe you now, but I believed you then
I make a fiend dream again, see me after you clean again
Church, nigga, huh
Baow

Written by:
Philip Anthony Bernard, Justin Christopher Harrell, Bernard Freeman, Aaron Cooks

Publisher:
Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC

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