Lyrics JINX! - Cash Kidd

JINX!

Bitch actin' like she got options, all them niggas broke\nI told BoA, «Don't put my fifty in no envelope»\nOn the block with my arm up like I’m in a post\nHit the mall, finna get sharp like my pencil broke\nMama think I hang with enemies 'cause all my niggas foes\nOn a yacht with a Drac' like Lil Boat\nWoke up in the mornin', broke up with my ho\nI mean, woke up, ayy, and broke up with your ho\nWoke up in the mornin' and your bitch got fired\nI ain’t even had no reason, Earth went afire\nCops hit the scene, high speed in designer\nGlock 17, I’m in the club with a minor\nDevil on my shoulder, runnin' lights, we in a striker\nG Money like Dwayne Wade, shooter and a driver\nWalk in with them fuckin' sticks like the Energizer\nGot the neck behind tint, told her, «Get to hikin'»\nI got eight on the webcam, I feel like a spider\nNigga, where your pape' at?\nNiggas talkin' good, broke as hell\nBoy, I’m way, way up like they put me on the scale\nCut the bitch off for good, ho, go to fuckin' Hell\nI hate chillin' with that bitch, she be smokin' on my tails\nPull up in a Rolls, toolie in my coat\nHe got whacked tryna act hard, I knew he was a ho\nI got drank in my cup, watchin' her chew me to the bone\nLike my shoes too little, she removed a nigga soul\nGucci’d to the floor, Cuban on me froze\nThis ain’t Fear Factor, but I’m puttin' that shit on, nigga\nShe ask what I like her for, bitch, what you think?\nI don’t know who got more bitches, me or Bink\nBetter keep your eyes open, I’ma snatch her if you blink\nRandy Moss, she wide open, goin' deep\nShe said, «I just want somebody» like she Tink\nWe shot 'em at the same time, bro said, «Jinx»\nI wasn’t gon' talk anyway, pussy nigga\nSomebody call pest control, jewelry tickin'\nThey copy me, they act like it’s a new invention\nMy housekeeper rollin' 'Woods and doin' dishes\nMy new ho give hour-long head, Stewie Griffin\nAha, my ex’ll never find a cooler nigga\nAll that wet talkin' gon' get you whacked if you against us\nGive his broke ass the first-place medal, he truly finished\nRoof gone,\nnew edition\nAyy, slim thick, cold as hell, ooh, she gifted\nAll she gotta do is walk, booty jigglin'\nStop starin' at me, bitch, I’m too expensive\nOne rule, leave your teeth at the door\nLaughin' with my pops, told him, «Give me a ho»\nHigh school, you was screamin', «Leave me alone»\nYou a dweeb to me, type of lame to get sent to the store\nPlayin' golf, on TextNow sendin' hits usin' codes\nSendin' bows like Big Ben with the 'fro\nAyy, he think he winnin', he don’t know he gettin' overlapped\nI don’t wanna fuck the bitch unless she fuckin' back\nWow, how your bitch even put up with your musty ass?\nI just hit it, quit it, bitch, it took six months to crack\nHe soft but he bear arms, his ass a gummy bear\nI get all the baddest bitches with my ugly ass