Woah
Huh, yeah
Yeah, what? Yeah
Bitch
All this money comin' fast, I gotta keep an order
Even though I rap, still in the trap, I might just take your order
Don't give no fuck, I can't go broke, I put that on my daughter
I damn, shit, but my pinky ring a fuckin' quarter (Yeah)
We hit they block, them niggas drop and they talk to reporters
I got a brand new bitch, her pussy wet like rainforest, huh
Fuck them niggas, speak on me, they better check the score, huh
They know what's up, if they want war, then we gon' give 'em war (Huh)
Yeah, bad bitch, her ass fat, she need to win an award
The other day, I just had court, so I wore Tom Ford
Yeah, we throw money on these whores, get it off the floor
Ain't like these niggas, you can't put me in their category
Don't call my phone about no bitch, no, that ain't player, john
Yeah, she gon' wanna eat the dick when she smell my cologne
I told my son, "Just keep it real," that's in his chromosome
And I can't never turn on Quill, lil' bro my backbone
I can't buy no pussy from her, but I got racks on me
Ain't none of these young niggas with me dykin', but they got straps on 'em
My country boy, he on the way, I put the tax on him
Lil' bro ain't never worked on calls, but he gon' jack somethin'
Phew, phew, phew, he gon' switch somethin'
I just popped a Perc', nigga, fuck your bitch, I'm tryna stick somethin'
Fuck these niggas, I watch they ass go broke 'fore I fix somethin'
I told the bitch to dry this fuckin' dope, I buy her some Ricks or somethin'
Everybody rich in the spot
Yeah, how many choppers we got? (Prrt)
How many switches we got? (Shh)
Shut up, lil' ho, and keep workin' that pot
I just been stackin' the guap
Put the shit up 'til this shit dry rot
Pull up and I drop my top, huh
Ain't gotta pay for no parking spot
Diamonds all over my neck, water
Turn this shit up, man, I had to go harder
We made the trap spot jump like the quarters
One-five on my back, feel like Vince Carter
Skrrt, skrrt, skrrt, skrrt, skrrt, hmm
New Trackhawk, this motherfucker roarin'
I'm in your city, I'll leave in the mornin'
New opp pack strong, this shit here blowin'
I give a fuck about the money, this shit get blew like horn
I know I get this shit right back 'cause I know what I'm doin'
I gotta keep that fuckin' Glock, no matter which way I'm goin'
Them niggas ain't never hit my block, so how the fuck they scorin'?
Pff, woo, we got it fuckin' snowin'
Bitch say she wanna get her a Zone 6 nigga, she know we the cream of the corn
Across the canal, that's where I was born
Counted that count like I hit by a storm
Racks on me, shit long like an arm
Huh, these bitches got pussies showin' (Get off gang)
What? Bitch, yes, I deserve to shine
Give a fuck 'bout what they say, one thing they do, respect my mind
Last nigga died when he crossed that line
Put switch on him, now his mama 'nem cryin'
How the fuck the blind gon' lead the blind?
Turn my hood up, this shit with 'em every time
Paroles2Chansons dispose d’un accord de licence de paroles de chansons avec la Société des Editeurs et Auteurs de Musique (SEAM)
