GILES

Uh, I’m tired of dealing with that fool, man, he made me go crazy

These fools think they’re solid
They all fall down like dominoes
Digging deep for the oil
Don’t wanna wake my demons (uh, yeah, yeah)
At your car door with the Glock, eh
Don’t make me break my codes (yeah)
Now I’m chill, all peace and love
Born from the trap, the prodigal son (ey, ey)

I write like I’m painting with oil (ah-ah-ah)
I eat the pussies like Oreos (ah-ah-ah)
I devour it like it’s a Candy Pop (yeah, eh)
Got something hidden in the carry-on
These rappers make me wanna vomit and cramp
If they love fame so much, let’s make them hit the papers (oh-oh-oh-oh-oh)
We’re on the rise, chronic success, and even though we’re still incognito
Shining from the shadows two blocks from Hipólito
I’m far away, I’m retired, Caribbean and clericó
I got the shooters mad who wanna get you, they tell me: Let it go
I can’t do it anymore (ey, you)
I don’t want to, but I’m not dizzy, yeah
I don’t wanna do it, I pray to God

These fools think they’re solid
They all fall down like dominoes (-nó, yeah)
Digging deep for the oil (yeah, yeah)
Don’t wanna wake my demons
At your car door with the Glock, eh
Don’t make me break my codes
Now I’m chill, all peace and love
Born from the trap, the prodigal son

Don’t make me break my codes
Born from the trap, the prodigal son
Don’t make me break my codes
Born from the trap, the prodigal son