Who composed the song “New Estate” by Philthy Rich?

The song “New Estate” by Philthy Rich was composed by PHILLIP BEASLEY, UNKNOWN WRITER.

New Estate

PHILLIP BEASLEY, UNKNOWN WRITER

(David Wesson) yeah, yeah
Yeah I'm fuckin' with G
That money ain't filthy, need a cut

Ten foreigns in a lot, yeah it's up tonight
But I ain't come to tip
I'm tryna get a bitch to fuck tonight
The DJ holler "Boys" in this bitch
You motherfuckin' right
I should've worn a mink
I think I got on too much fuckin' ice
If we ever bump heads
You know it's up for life
Don't care if you in jail
I'll have him stab you with a fucking knife
It be your own people hating on
You just like Uncle Ice
I told that nigga stop while he ahead
Now he stuck at the light
Save the pint of Hi Tech for the
Drop so I can up the price
You niggas still around this bitch broke
You caught up in the hypе
I pray the feds let my nigga go
Thеy caught him with a pint
I'm down to bet it all on myself
Shake and roll the dice
Unc' just put a cake on the
Table and I cut a slice
I had a phone jumping on my block
'fore I jumped on a mic
The plug told me meet him in LA
So I jumped on a flight
Be careful, when you really getting cheese
You know that come with mice

How these niggas say they real?
But they really fake (Cap)
If you ain't in it making M's
Then you in the way (Facts)
I need five-thousand acres
This my new estate
I heard that money grow on trees
I gotta get a rake (O oh)
How these niggas say they real?
But they really fake (Cap)
If you ain't in it making M's
Then you in the way (Facts)
I need five-thousand acres
This my new estate
I heard that money grow on trees
I gotta get a rake (O oh)

Look, love me in public, hate me in private
They been flying commercial
I been flying private
This one stop texting so I had to block her
She got both numbers, had no other option
I ain't got no time to be wasting time
Seek to indict, I might be facing time
The streets know them niggas just hating
I was just in the streets waiting
All publicity is good publicity
Last nigga got a casket just for dissing me
I need a fader, not a friend
I'ma have it on me nine times out of ten
We call a million dollars chump change
Niggas just was broke before
That Trump change
Ayy, tell that bitch to work with
Me and not against me
A lot of niggas switched sides
And went against me (It's Phil)

I heard money grown on trees
I had to chop me one
First time I seen a Drac'
I had to cop me one nigga I'm the big dawg
You ain't stoppin' nothin'
You can't come inside my trap
If you ain't coppin' nothin' nigga stop it
You ain't got no bands in yo' pocket
I'm sticking to the code
Real niggas stay solid
These niggas poor as hell
They ain't never made deposit's
All my jewelry on
In the trenches still slidin'
Catch him then we stretch him
We gon' drop him like some Wocky
My niggas wit' whatever
It ain't shit to catch a body
I'm in the money zone, 62nd where you find me
HME, FOD, I'ma bank it 'til I'm bodied
Seminary nigga
Keep the Glocky right beside me
Me and Tray rocking double
Fully's like we Siamese
Reaching for my chain, game over
Come and try me catch that one nigga out in
Public, we'll fry him, on gang

The streets know, the streets know
Gotta stick to that G-code
Shoot through the peephole
Smack that bitch up on the
Side if they ridin', then reload
Put this bitch up in the middle of
Your eyes, now it's three holes, yeah
Paper, nigga, Kinko's
Come through evaporate ya, say
"He in beast mode"
How the fuck is you gon' miss a free throw?
Windex his 'Vette, now that
Shit is see-through, yeah
Take this strap on a jet even if it's illegal
Bitch, that's just my steelo
Everywhere that we go, yeah

Got a nigga hurt before I
Put like three notes, yeah
Throw some shit out and I
Walked in, yo' shit quoted, ooh ooh
Fought a nigga out 'cause I
Can see that he frozen, ooh ooh
Yeah

Philthy Rich

New Estate

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