Glass

[Intro]
DJ, DJ, DJ, man
What the fuck is going on man
Clean, clean, clean
Shit, that's a Danny G beat
Yeah, clean, clean, clean

[Chorus: DJ Lucas]
I said approach me with some cash
Girl, I'm grown and I ain't tripping on emotions in the past
Told the custys hold up, 'cause I'm just getting into Mass
Seen my homie stop trapping, now he's only blowing glass

[Verse 1: DJ Lucas]
Please don't get me started
Boy, I really talk my talk, yeah, I'm just like Roland Martin
Told my custy to hit the lot and double park it
They be asking when that Gassachusetts gonna hit the market (Money)
[?] collar, boy, I'm really 'bout a dollar
Know a crazy hippie lady, she keeps trying to play mancala
The voice of reason nevеr seems to answer when I holler
Man, this DJ if you see that 413 on thе collar
Even though I'm going hard, I can't be too aggressive
I came out Western Mass so they know I'm too progressive
My homie's sniffing dope and that shit is too depressing
Told my mom that I am sorry but you know I'm too invested
Put the mushrooms in my drink and have an ego death
Shorty started talking crazy 'cause the PMS
My competition sweating bullets, I ain't even stressed
I'm smoking zaza on the stretcher with the EMS
Man, I gotta tell the truth, they thinks it's radical
I'm sick of schooling everyone, I'm on sabbatical
Shorty said she 'bout to send the addy though
She slipping through the cracks from a cigarette that's on the patio

[Chorus: DJ Lucas]
I said approach me with some cash
Girl, I'm grown and I ain't tripping on emotions in the past
Told the custys hold up, 'cause I'm just getting into Mass
Seen my homie stop trapping, now he's only blowing glass

[Verse 2: Sweet T]
My fiends afraid of the fent, he's only blowing glass
All my hoes roll en masse and they're strapped up with ass
I've been schooling hams like I was top class in cash
I'll serve you copper and lead and then run off with the brass
If they play me like I'm slow, then I'll run off like the Flash
You're the type to post a flashback with your man's cash
You could never touch my main, but I know that you would smash
I would never touch your main, she probably'd give me a rash
I got cheese in my pocket, the mag long like a Bosco
I'll stand on the pedal and do the dash like I'm Roscoe
I like red in my cup but I'll never go to Moscow
I got auntie tearing up the pharmacy inside Costco
Your team's full of rats, just a bunch of brass strokes
Broke down two O's and blew it all, it was gas though
I'm a buccaneer, all I care about is cash flow
When my fiend shoots the eight, she sounds like it's from Glasco
I'll kick one in the head, I keep guns, not hammers
If I pull this bitch out, I know your whole team will clamor
Bars so hot, they need infrared scanners
Back in Pre-K I wrote "Get money" in my planner
Tryna conversate with Sweet, you better mind your manners
I'll fry you 'bout some chicken, call me Colonel Sanders
Fly the chop like a banner and hang you out like a tanner
I got standards, my whole echelon is commanders
As long as the bread's right, I'm a happy camper
If I'm one dollar short, my workers fill up their Pampers
I got eyes on everything, something like I'm Flanders
Used to cop hot [?], now it's J Alexander's
Bitch