Who is carly lyrics

[Intro]
You got a fast car
I want a ticket to anywhere
Maybe we make a deal
Maybe together we can get somewhere
Any place is better
Starting from zero, got nothing to lose
Maybe we'll make somethin'
Me, myself, I got nothing to prove
(Four3va)


[Chorus]
Huh, huh
Lot a sh*t changed not the same n*gga
Rap n*ggas tryna be in competition I stay in my lane, i dont race n*ggas
Can't learn a thing for something they make believe, can't f*ck with the fake n*ggas
I can't even sleep, my mission be all in my dreams' keep dreaming I chase n*ggas
Huh, like who is carly?
Why you recording me?
b*tch get off me, you annoying, huh
Been told her stop still throwing it
b*tch fold I said keep goin
f*cked off on ya man he ain knowing it, huh
Take the chop from his ass he ain blowin it
Rookies don't get respect from the field n*gga
Shootin sh*t don't make you a real n*gga
[Verse]
He ain really fam' but we got blood ties cus' I kill with em
We ain't even really got time for a n*gga tryna play both sides, get spotted we deal' wit em
If they play all I know is go kill' n*gga
See a fake loose screw' gonna go drill n*ggas
It's been hella sh*t throughout the week, ion know if I wanna go lean or go pill' n*gga
Got charges can't get certain jobs, you want some pape' gotta go rob or go kill n*gga
Label talm' bout half a Mil
If the paper work right then I'm signing that deal' n*gga
Better get out the field, nah for real
If you don't you gon' get killed
Huh, i ain't duckin no smoke but I wanna see better sh*t I'm tryna live
Gotta car and a big ass crib, right next were his BM live
n*gga steady bitin on my b*tch don't be mad when you see me in ya BM crib
Bad young n*gga use to hit up crip
Stay in the country now use to hit up deers
Hate me so bad, when I do something good they don't pick up that cup, tryna hit up' cheers

[Chorus]
Huh, like who is carly?
Why you recording me?
b*tch get off me, you annoying, huh
Been tossed up' still throwing it
Been fold I still keep goin
f*cked off on ya man he ain knowing it, huh
Take the chop from his ass he ain blowin it
Rookies don't get respect from the field n*gga
Some sh*t don't make you a real n*gga
[Verse 2]
Tryna trick me, I ain't goin for that
pus*y boy tricks are for kids
On a slick opp' be on some gay sh*t, why that boy bit' gotta beard?
African homie got spears
Tryna hit solider boy and that pus*y come here
Missin my dawg' i still talk to em, but I cry when I realize he ain't here
Im onna earth without Hot and Ru, what am I pose to do?
Huh, I'm number one I am not the two' doubt me is what not to do
Huh, strip that young n*gga from top to shoe lil n*gga we not cha crew
Huh, bit' tryna act like I'm not the truth' f*ck around and come knock ya boots
On a drill slide with a Glock or two
Runnin on time got a clock her to
Free trick the jail what that block a do
Had to show my hood' just what that Flocka do
Make a b*tch crazy, fasho what this c*ck would do
12 can't catch me with drugs I'ma show what that socka do
How you want me to hit it' she like bone in
Them boys gettin money, then we want it

Huh, like who is carly?
Why you recording me?
b*tch get off me, you annoying, huh
Been told her stop still throwing it
b*tch fold I said keep goin
f*cked off on ya man he ain knowing it, huh
Take the chop from his ass he ain blowin it
Rookies don't get respect from the field n*gga
Shootin sh*t don't make you a real n*gga
[Outro]
You got a fast car
You got a fast car
You got a fast car
You got a fast car
You got a fast car
You got a fast car
You got a fast car
You got a fast car