| Info, you hear this bitch slicin'
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| Road blocks
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| I’m in this bitch nigga grease life (aye)
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| OG Muggs, where we at with it (uh huh)
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| Two t wenty-Seven, concrete
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| Let’s get it
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| Who got snaps on the petro? |
| (by the pound)
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| Number eights, black suede, turquoise and grape crush, straps on the retro
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| Ghettro
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| PC ass boost mobile twerking (uh) lead cracker
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| It’s a universal code, we meet in person (it's on)
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| Keep the transaction strictly between the purchase and a merchant (what else?)
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| All that middle man shit, I can’t purp', it make me nervous (I can’t)
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| When yo man don’t show the moneys, but he showcasin' the package (cut it)
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| Cut and ripped it open, after I did duct taped and wrapped it ()
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| Tryin' to pull a fast one
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| Ghetto triple platinum
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| Double down on me
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| And he still owe her for the last one (where we at?)
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| Fuck the world, came in her face, I used to have have a heart
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| Talking dirty after dark, gave the game a passion mark
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| Main engines, money drew out bitches, sport fashion art
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| a rental
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| Outside the venue, left the parked (skirt)
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| I’m in the, finna catch a
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| Brodie swipin the, makin' a fashion mart (ting)
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| He shot at, he ain’t really wanna kill me, he ain’t have the heart
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| Heard he got killed, they think we did it and we ain’t have no parts (at all)
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| You give a man a brick of fish to see if it sink or swim
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| Hook, line, sinker, teach him to fish, I bet he catch a shark
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| Well, it’s the part right here, where the pressure starts (when it’s on)
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| When that water get deep, it’s a question mark (how deep)
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| Is you gon' swim or you gon' sink, at that pressure point
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| Niggas ain’t as real as they be seeming, it’s a question mark (what else?)
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| Death is a art in itself, we quick to let it spark
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| Catch you with his mans, I’m paying extra, tell 'em add to cart (double down)
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| Grab the tarp, tryin' to cover the yacht, I wish I had a heart
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| So I could fuck a mermaid, sound like Lisa when she mad at Bart (let's get it)
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| Climbin' up the charts with this ladder
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| And my Maggie sellin' dope like I’m Homer
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| Count blues of momma Marge (OJ Simpson)
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| Pound of platinum cookie, pints of, four
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| We got that 'eat a bunker' and that ol' Archie
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| So keep it comin', on the low
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| My brother Marcy told me she got a good head on her shoulder, so smart (oh my
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| Lord)
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| I need a little pretty bitch, ghetto Barbie
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| I owe a couple niggas taking hits, who wanna charge me? |
| (free of charge)
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| It’s on the flo', no, this ain’t my first rodeo
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| So don’t be tellin' me who tellin', 'cause I don’t wanna know (nope)
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| Hit his hoe, we havin' a fit
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| Niggas know the scope (sssh), brick or blow
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| Reppin' the six like I’m smokin' Joe ()
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| He shot at, he ain’t really wanna kill me, he ain’t have the heart
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| Heard he got killed, they think we did it and we ain’t have no parts (at all)
|
| You give a man a brick of fish to see if it sink or swim
|
| Hook, line, sinker, teach him to fish, I bet he catch a shark
|
| Well, it’s the part right here, where the pressure starts (when it’s on)
|
| When that water get deep, it’s a question mark (how deep)
|
| Is you gon' swim or you gon' sink, at that pressure point
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| Niggas ain’t as real as they be seeming, it’s a question mark (what else?) |