Regular Guy Lyrics

[Intro: Freshie]
Slayer
f*ck

[Chorus: Freshie]
I'm on that bullshit like I'm from the Chi'
Ar-15, he gon' end in the sky
Ain't have a job, I ain't wanna apply
These niggas be broke, he a regular guy
Yeah, hah (Yeah, yeah, Dirty)
Workin' that block, no suite or tie
The block, it get hot like we live in Dubai
Take your bitch, honestly, do not comply
Pop out the cut, fourth of July
All of these hundreds, I cannot deny
Smokin' this gas, I think I can fly
Dirty, he dirty, they wonderin' why
Yeah, ha
It's just too dirty, man, hold on
Okay
f*ck on that bitch and I ain't even try

[Verse 1: Freshie]
f*ck her one time, she don't get a reply
He said he know me but that is a lie
Louis V, I put that on my eye
Hundreds, they dead, all my presidents die
Think you won't, hurryin' by
I'm in the trap with a bunch of supply
Creep in your house now I feel like a spy
Hopped in the coupe and the roof say goodbye
Hopped in the coupe, I don't know how to act know
Coppers, they see me, they doin' a pat-down (Yeah, pat-down)
The money make that sound
Bullets went up, and that nigga, he sat down
Aim right there where your head is
In love with that money, that money my fetish
I'm like a bird, I be right where the bread is
I put that money right there where my bed is

[Chorus: Freshie]
I'm on that bullshit like I'm from the Chi'
Ar-15, he gon' end in the sky
Ain't have a job, I ain't wanna apply
These niggas be broke, he a regular guy
Yeah, hah (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
Workin' that block, no suite or tie The block, it get hot like we live in Dubai
Take your bitch, honestly, do not comply
Pop out the cut, fourth of July
All of these hundreds, I cannot deny
Smokin' this gas, I think I can fly
Dirty, he dirty, they wonderin' why
Yeah, ha
It's just too dirty, man, hold on
Okay
f*ck on that bitch and I ain't even try

[Verse 2: Foreign Jay]
Coppers see me and they doin' a patdown
Ooh shit, where is the Gat now?
I took risks so my pockets fat now
Take chances, niggas crap out
Count up, I get cash
Them boys broke, these niggas be mad, uh
Run off straight to the past
Like Bape Pradas, we on your ass
Clean-up, my pockets dirty
I'm og and these niggas like 30
He scared, oh, he in a hurry
f*ckin' this shawty, I think she purty
We spin your shit, we lurkin'
Broke-ass nigga, go and get a attorney
I feel you was broke for too long
She suckin' my dick to my song

[Chorus: Freshie]
I'm on that bullshit like I'm from the Chi'
Ar-15, he gon' end in the sky
Ain't have a job, I ain't wanna apply
These niggas be broke, he a regular guy
Yeah, hah (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
Workin' that block, no suite or tie
The block, it get hot like we live in Dubai
Take your bitch, honestly, do not comply
Pop out the cut, fourth of July
All of these hundreds, I cannot deny
Smokin' this gas, I think I can fly
Dirty, he dirty, they wonderin' why
Yeah, ha
It's just too dirty, man, hold on
Okay
f*ck on that bitch and I ain't even try

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