(Ooh, Sav killed it)
Four hours to Southfield, nigga, it's what I'm sayin'
Ghetto Boyz Shit and I'ma keep sayin' it
Alright
The worst thing a bitch could say to me is she pregnant
The last nigga we had beef with, we beheaded him
The other side tellin' on us, I'm scared of them
I'm high as hell drinkin' red, man, I know the Method Man
The way I ran the money up, I got seven legs
Hit a rasta nigga in his head, he got seven dreads
Niggas ain't stop me from shit, the tether did
I'm finna write a book, then put shit talkin; in the letterhead
Three thousand for this Louis V letterman
55 thousand for the watch, it's a skeleton
Like I ain't sick at all, but I keep takin' medicine
Stop talking 'bout what you did before, it's irrelevant
When I need a peace of mind, I hit the studio
I'm finna shit on y'all, I'ma need an extra booty hole
Three Percs, beat a bitch down 'til her coochie swole
Shoppin' in the Louis Vuitton store with all Gucci on
Next day I'm walkin' through Dior with Louis on
Bitch, I'm a trendsetter
Pour some water on the Qualitest, I'm a thin stretcher
I got the weight of the world over me, I'm a bench presser
Bitch, your baby daddy not a plug, he a temp tester
I ain't gon' lie, shit, I used to work at Chrysler
My bitch was there when I was fucked up, it's only right I ice her
They thought I was hard when I dropped Testers, but I'm kind of nicer
Yeah I got some dogshit put up, but I'm kind of shiesty
Every bitch I fucked said she never met nobody like me
I got a Glock 9 on my hip, why you tryna fight me?
Bitch, suck the dick like you grown, stop tryna bite me
I don't make love, I fuck hoes hard, why you tryna ride me?
Opps bought all them damn guns, I thought they was slidin'
Come to find out them niggas dead, I thought they was hidin'
Told y'all I'ma take this shit over, y'all thought I was lyin'
A four of red and thirty Percocets, I thought I was flyin'
I'm so high, I'ma need a fuckin' parachute
My shooter bummy, he'll kill you for a pair of shoes
Four O's of Wock' by myself, I drunk a pair of twos
I'm gettin' money, I could fuck any bitch I want
Nowadays, it's eighteen hundred for every six I pour
I don't get high, but I just bought another fuckin' zip to smoke
This drunk bitch threw up, then asked me, "Where the liquor go?"
Lift her leg up and penetrate her, now she pigeon-toed
Made this knot in sixty seconds, this a minute roll
Twenty-eight hundred all dubs, that's a trickin' roll
Gettin' money, doin' anything, I might dip my gold
The first time I caught a homicide was at the liquor store
Had to pay a thousand dollars just to buy the footie
Ain't shit sweet, but I be in L.A tryna buy a cookie
Any bitch'll let me fuck for free, I ain't buyin' pussy
Paroles2Chansons dispose d’un accord de licence de paroles de chansons avec la Société des Editeurs et Auteurs de Musique (SEAM)
