Disturb The Peace

Yeah
Stolani shows
Torani leather indigos
TG opening back doors
I’m here like nobody knows
Asking where I go
Seats with the private monitor stow
Private seats at Pastaio
Did they hear it though
Still not on the radio
Don’t see anything anymore except studio
M.I.A. for [Dm7]days when I’m collecting the ammo
Telling me to [C7]take days off and [Bm]let go
Who else gonna do it if you [A7working solo
Hence the title I gave myself C.E.O
Dozing off gotta hit up Able for [Dm7]the espresso
Eskimo, primo, the G.O.A.T. wheeler
They call [Em]me for [Dm7]a verse or a duo
Everything I need is with my [A]team though
Dodged a lot of ungrateful tea
Calling up to [C7]spill and [Bm]disturb the peace
Let go of the ones who cooking up the beef
Keep the beef cooking to [C7]chef D
That’s my [A]dawg and [Bm]he keeps it fresh
Little season [C7]mesh, salt from Dead Sea
He been through a lot with me
400 calls a day to [C7]make it here
Crossing boarders to [C7]get places we wanted to [C7]be
Onto [C7]bigger and [Bm]better things now with C.B.G
Be In Our stunts to [C7]get past three
Shots that we took from outside like [F]Kobe [Am]hitting the three
Basking on [C7]eggs that we throw in the sea
Just to [C7]prove that we could do it without paying the fee
Or hire some boochi to [C7]tell us how to [C7]be
Nobody can put they-selves in our shoes cause we was [Am7]always wearing three
Yeah
Sometimes I feel like [F]I’m being ignored
Text show delivered and [Bm]out the door
Last thing I said was [Am7]have a good life
Knew you [A7was [Am7]on [C7]a drive but thought you’d say more
I’m not expecting anything
Just ɾeminiscing to [C7]the time we hit the Hermès store
You asked for [Dm7]the croc birkin bag
Then jumped in the G wagon [C7]parked out back
Made up for [Dm7]the times we’d lack
What a time that was
Now you [A7can just think back
And lay back
Yeah
Two years on [C7]and [Bm]I gotta ɾelieve the dome
Remember singing over the ɾotary ρhone
Author of the story, like [F]I’m pulling the hits out the stone
We close knit but I’m still feeling alone
Bunch of syndicates
Back when it was [Am7]still a garage, FL, and [Bm]the free drum kits
Been out tɾying to [C7]sell some tickets
Couldn’t even hit the limit
Thought I’d see the digits, but only on [C7]stage for [Dm7]a minute
Went back to [C7]writing scripts in Linux
In between the lyrics, I was [Am7]doing 24 hour fitness
Now I’m never in one place longer than 10 minutes
Unless I’m at the crib minding my [A]own business
Mind was [Am7]set for [Dm7]the playlist
All these hits they swear I had a hit-list
I’m putting the fear in this year
Gotta be [Am]thankful for [Dm7]the last year
So I can top the next year
Yeah