Ay, let me hear that ho, Jeff
Ay, ho, ayo, let me hear that ho, Jefferson, go
Whatever, hit that ho, Jefe, start
Ooh, ooh, yuh
Designer kitchen, my shoes stay laced
Hit from the back, can't give her a break
Come to your block, tell everbody to shake
Yuh, then we gon' shoot up the wakes
Junkies lined up at the stop, gotta wait
Ready to shoot, got a stock on the K
Niggas be talkin' and stalkin', they gay
Back in the day, I was jumpin' your gate
I ran it up, they think I'm 'lluminati
I'm not a clone, bitch, this a real body
Hit from the back and put dick in her body
Last nigga say he want smoke, we bought him
Ooh, I had to come from the bottom
Play dumb in the club and get hit with a bottle
Every bitch you see me with look like a model
Yuh, she eat it up and she swallow
If I didn't rap, I'd still have cake
Bitch, I got rich and still runnin' from jakes
Nah, bitch, I don't wanna fuck, it's too late
Play with the gang then we uppin' the rate
Yuh, uppin' the murder rate
Yuh, up that muder
Pull out the Glock, had to eat him like burgers
Get the fuck up, you can't chill with the circle
You can not chill over here, no, no
We don't [?], no, yuh
It go big, go home, yuh
And don't ever trap at your home
I ran it up, nah, I hate playin' bitches
We got them sticks, nigga, play and we hit 'em
Gang from the [?], if I reach, they'll get 'em
Think they'll never go shoot, but we split 'em
Fuck it, I don't care
Get beat by me for a Beat By Jeff
Fuck what you heard, put a gun in your ear
Used to hit shows wavin' guns in the air
(Bitch, stop playin', let's go)
Go, go, ooh, I'm finna take the headphones off
But I gotta prove it, ooh, I gotta grove it
Pull up with a stick and we shoot a movie
I got a whip, I got a truck-
Paroles2Chansons dispose d’un accord de licence de paroles de chansons avec la Société des Editeurs et Auteurs de Musique (SEAM)
