H.A.N. - Trinidad Jame$, Fyre., 31 Gramms

I’m at dinner with my side chick

Tryna keep it private

She said she lost her appetite

I swear baby Ima find it

Here come my nigga

My nigga wanna a picture

I thought he was a fan

Now my nigga wanna feature

C’mon nigga

C’mon nigga

C’mon nigga

Now my nigga wanna deal

And he keep looking at me serious

I look back at my bitch

And she say I should the nigga

He showing me his soundlcoud

I tell him save the trouble

I try to give the email

But he only want the number

He asked

How you get verified

You pay for it or something

How yo gold song go

Man that shit was funny

He asked

Should I do a Major

Or make independent money

I said nigga where my salmon at

And I don’t want no onions

Woah

Woah

Woah

Woah

Might not be too disrespectful nigga

I’m just tryna spit

To you at least a verse

But you about to make your food be hit

I just got out of a jail

I don’t care nothing bout this shit

I don’t want no fucking job

I’m just tryna go legit

So why the fuck you tripping Nigga

I thought you was real

Well bless me with a verse

Help a nigga get a deal

I want gold all on my watch

Got a lil gold in my chain

Why the fuck You being so lame

God Damn nigga you change

I hope that lil change

Last younger than your lil fame

And I heard you did a lil movie

Tryna revive your lil name

Well listen

Forget it

Know I’m still good for a picture

Oh nah

Well fuck you then

Ole Hollywood ass nigga

Gramm

He’s gon hate you and your city

You know?

And I advise everybody wants to get money get out they city, man

Cause that’s where the hatred gone come

You know?

People be like, that’s how I was at first you know

I ain’t going nowhere

I ain’t going nowhere