Meekz - Can't Stop Won't Stop pe Lyrkit

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Meekz

Can't Stop Won't Stop

Can't Stop Won't Stop

(album: Can't Stop Won't Stop - 2020)

Shout out MIKA, my bruh
For the whole mob
I ain't never had no job
Always been my own boss
I don't do no dead food, I do my own wash
I don't need no dead food
Yeah, I do my own wash
My life

Can't stop, won't stop (Never)
Free the hitters social-ed locked
Do it for the whole mob (Free the mandem)
Body show, dome shot (Bow)
Sticky if it goes off
Tryna blow your nose off
Hella trips to make the phone pop (Brrr)
Yayo coming so soft
Can't stop, won't stop
Flying, better blow cops
Fuck my old opps, I get it popping in the clothes shop
Every couple week I get the phone gone, road's hot
Need to hose off
Smoke Cali, getting blowjobs
I need a whole box for my own spot
Remember waiting for the drone drop
Can't stop, won't stop
Send my youngin's to the O spot
Studio, the phone's off (Kway)
I gotta treat it like the coke spot
Smokin on mimosa
Two-hundred K with no prompter (Mad)
Clout, blow me over

Packs flipping over, whipping soda (Flip it)
Ask your older
Licks hit with a Jack Revolver
If I back the toaster
Have to ghost you flipping joker (Trippin')
Must be sniffing coca
Clock's ticking over, packs ticking over
Got her doing yoga, told her hold the super soaker (Hold that)
If I get wrapped with this wap, then it's movie over (Movie done)
Can't stop, won't stop
'Less they like me like the grow shop (Haha)
'Member time when I had no gwop
But you'll never make my soul stop
Energies are so strong
'Member waiting so long
'Times it's best to prolong
Sitting in my cell, hidding zancos in roll-ons (Mad)
I bet I make 'em hear it like an old song (Feel it like an old song)

Can't rest, can't rest, won't rest
Believing in the process
Every day's a progress
Slow steps, I need my own clothes next (Trust)
I really need a grown check
Funny nigga gassed off a Rolex
Stacking for a home? You need to go bed
My young hitter getting active off a moped (Gang)
They ain't new to cash
My young niggas moving mad
Pop you for a Louis bag (Murder)
All he ever wanted was some Gucci rags (Mad)
Putting moves to plan
Put in too for fags before we move to traps
Now everybody shooting straps (Pow)
Well, where the shootings at? (Where they at?)
Don't get too attached
Roads'll have you doing laps (Laps)
Getting dots 'til I drop
Turned me so rotten
I can feel my soul rotting
Grew around fiends with no teeth but I'm dough getting (Money, man)
Bally on me, ho getting, dough making
Probably snake your own brethren for some road-readys
So hellish, so reckless
Hit the studio with no effort, kill the whole session

Light work

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