(My nigga Lee, I think we got another one)
I'm eighty-seven racks in, where my tab at?
I should beat my bitch ass with her bad ass
That money come in duffle bags, works come in trash bags
I could pull racks at any time, call it fast cash
My youngin pull up shootin' anybody, think he Mad Max
Bro, the chopper smilin', boy, let's see who get the last laugh
Rather fly out to an island, fuck some O's, we want hashtags
And me and bro gon' spit the pros, went half on the last batch
Gon' take the risk, I feel like Eggroll, these bricks inside the fender
Gon' your bitch and I'ma head home, she eat me likе it's dinner
Young niggas lookin' up to me, they callin' mе they mentor
Ask me how I had a stick in the party before I'm in there
I'll make a mil' in a state and I ain't been there
I heard them alphabet boys just waitin', so I just send there
'Bout a Urus on my neck, another hundred in wristwear
Everybody want success, but don't wanna work to get there
The Hellcat just fishtail, I think I'm Ric Flair
Enough money to disappear right in thin air
The feds caught our package, they just called me, it's a miscarriage
But that was a distraction, the real bag, I let my bitch carry it
Money conversations, this the plug, don't hang the phone up
Knock a nigga daddy down before the sun up
We specialize in walkin' niggas down, so don't run up
Put fifty cent on every nigga that's your young buck
Three-five in every Backwood, I know my lungs fucked
Ghetto baby, swing them choppers like some nunchucks
Them niggas ain't no killers, they some young pups
Them niggas' pockets worth four thousand, they got one cup
Yeah, ain't no bein' broke around me, boy, I'm pluggin' 'em
I'm just fuckin' on these hoes I ain't lovin' 'em
How the fuck the bag gone and you ain't touchin' 'em?
I know a killer, he just beggin' for another one
I got some babies in the crib, I'm 'bout to tuck 'em in
She let my kids hit the floor and never fuck again
Can't no accountant count my cheese, I barely trust my mans
Don't just be runnin' up on me, I damn near bust a fan
My pain died, aim high, we on the same side
Put the trees upside down, check the hangtime
Last time an opp died, I was on a plane flyin'
Ironically we was in the sky at the same time
These niggas tired of gettin' killed, tell 'em take five
Nigga, I been payin' bills since I was yay high
I took a lot of niggas in, they tried to take me out
You'd fuck with me if you knew what I made it out
They hit the block yesterday, we just changed the house
He had a plan before he died, but he laid the route
Two hundred pounds at one time, we gon' save the drought
I know you left it up to me, we gon' make it count
This for Crumbles
Money conversations, this the plug, don't hang the phone up
Knock a nigga daddy down before the sun up
We specialize in walkin' niggas down, so don't run up (My nigga Lee, I think we got another one)
Put fifty cent on every nigga that's your young buck
Three-five in every Backwood, I know my lungs fucked
Ghetto baby, swing them choppers like some nunchucks
Them niggas ain't no killers, they some young pups
Them niggas' pockets worth four thousand, they got one cup
Paroles2Chansons dispose d’un accord de licence de paroles de chansons avec la Société des Editeurs et Auteurs de Musique (SEAM)
