Cut From A Different Cloth Lyrics

Have you ever seen a hundred grand?
Scruffed in a duffle bag?
Have you ever seen coke, nigga?
Or look down at Teresa, seen the falls, nigga?
We cut from a different cloth
We cut from a different cloth
Why'd a nigga get lost?
There's no comparison,
We cut from a different cloth

We cut from a different cloth
Stones all in my big face
Shining all in your bitch face
Stop making today my sick day
Everyday my rich day
You niggas squirrel like a big shape(?)
Never seen no brick, though
Never had no crack spot, but you
Rap about that shit, though
Sit down on my patio
With a slim chick and a fattie, though
Reminisce of the old days, when I hear rock
In my old chains
Had a doze spat before a mustache
When I had a Coupe, you had a bus pass
I stood back while you cut grass
Teen mate away, I fuck fast
At a hotel with no bitch, though
Just a lot of work and my pistols
My cuz, though, tryna get flow
After this, though, I'mma get low
Serving killers all in the trenches
Ride up at the club, jumping out the Benz
I was in the game when you was riding bitches
Right then came to my car
Get away from my padded green
Used to fit, but fat done means(?)
My Benz is clean, that's real, mate,
With that amphetamine
Have these boys to sell the thing
Unless you come to sell a dream
We do it here, we lost niggas
Can't fuck with us
Our cloth different!

Have you ever seen a hundred grand?
Scruffed in a duffle bag?
Have you ever seen coke, nigga?
Or look down at Teresa, seen the falls, nigga?
We cut from a different cloth
We cut from a different cloth
Why'd a nigga get lost?
There's no comparison,
We cut from a different cloth

I don't play games, don't incite me!
Yeah, you rap and get cash, but you ain't like me
And we made 100 on set and runs
Came humble, seven guns
Luke already has six, nigga
All we drop is classics
You tripping, girl, you fucking with the hell, bitch!
Double rock, ask around, clean up that mill shit
Balls to the day, pretty smithy and the fence
That light is going red, he's got a black ass, go to jail
I shoot up them dumb asses, I be on that real shit
First, a person, (???)
...
So calm down, got a deal with them choppers, ease up hundred rounds
And if I got 'em going 'gain I sort of want them heard me
My man, Gatti a gangsta, show out to Betti,
You know where my niggas front
Don't approach where we hunt
You don't do the shit that I do, ballet ain't fucking cool!