Cheap As Hell

Yeah… ain’t no unity round here, fam

Ain’t no hugs, just plugs, no trust, stacking bands

East side mindset, cold with the hunger

Philly to Wilmington — grime never slumber

Fuck, I’m cheap as hell, I ain’t buyin’ no Chanel

Need a fucking lil’ thrill twice ‘fore I drop a cent, for real

Ain’t no “we,” ain’t no “fam,” I’m dolo, can’t you tell

It’s me, myself, my cash — I grind, I scheme, I sell

I don’t split plates, I don’t do teams, I do mine

Every handshake suspect, every smile is fuck outta line

Had to learn quick, these streets don’t hug, they choke

I play broke in Jordan 11s, no joke

Every thought got a plan, every move got a code

If loyalty was gas, half y’all still on the fucking road

I learned being cold from playing poker, I been numb to the trust

I don’t pray for love, I pray for a winning hand, oh shit royal flush

Fuck, I’m cheap as hell, I ain’t buyin’ Louis Vuitton

Need my fucking fun twice over ‘fore I spend one coin

Ain’t no “we,” ain’t no “fam,” I’m solo, I be gone

It’s me, myself, my cash — I hustle till the dawn

Used to think “brotherhood,” till the money got involved

Now I move solo — fuck problems get resolved

No call, no text, no favors on deck

If it don’t add digits, I’m ghost, respect

I’m from where dreams die quicker than a witness on the stand

Where fake love thicker than a fucking prison plan

Every heart got a hustle, every smile got a scheme

So I stack till I sleep, no team, no dream

Fuck, I’m cheap as hell, I ain’t buyin’ no Fendi

Need a fucking quick thrill twice ‘fore I drop one penny

Ain’t no “we,” ain’t no “fam,” I’m greedy if you send me

It’s me, myself, my cash — shit my circle never friendly

My fucking .45 my only friend, my ops my motivation

Money conversations my only dedication

Shorty want bags, I want stocks and stash

The bitch wants trips, I want flip and cash

I ain’t cold-hearted — I’m realistic, fam

If I didn’t change, I’d be broke or in a damn jam

So I keep my love locked and my focus tight

’Cause loyalty don’t live in this kind of night

Fuck, I’m cheap as hell, I ain’t buyin’ no Dior

Need my fucking soul snatched twice ‘fore I hit that store

Ain’t no “we,” ain’t no “fam,” I’m solo to the core

It’s me, myself, my cash — I grind, I scheme, I score