Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Call Me T.I., artist - Glasses Malone. Date of issue: 28.08.2011
Song language: English
Call Me T.I. |
| Rubber band man, bitch I got stash |
| Cause I’m a dough boy, what you know about that? |
| You can call me T.I., handling my B. I |
| Guns, guns like a G.I., Hoes cause I’m a P. I |
| I bring them out, cause my bread is long |
| And its big things popping till I’m dead and gone |
| You can call me T.I., handling my B. I |
| Guns like a G.I., Hoes cause I’m a P. I |
| Boom! |
| Free T.I.P., my nigga free T.I.P., |
| Ask Jeezy bought me, nigga this Crip |
| I could get a hundred years for having this clip |
| Lay a hundred down, wit one trip |
| Next year’s model, how a nigga did |
| Next top model’s on a nigga dick |
| Word from pitcher’s stone |
| To now I’m pitchin sticks |
| What you staring at, take a picture trick |
| Yea you heard me bitch, go call your men’s up |
| My hustle grand, they got my grands up |
| We blowing money fast, nigga and what |
| If you do it like G, my nigga stand up |
| And put your hands up, like the law here |
| Shit but fuck the law, you tryna ball here |
| The top shelf bottles bring them all here |
| Fuck January 1st, we do this all year |
| Rubber band man, bitch I got stash |
| Cause I’m a dough boy, what you know about that? |
| You can call me T.I., handling my B. I |
| Guns, guns like a G.I., Hoes cause I’m a P. I |
| I bring them out, cause my bread is long |
| And its big things popping till I’m dead and gone |
| You can call me T.I., handling my B. I |
| Guns like a G.I., Hoes cause I’m a P. I |
| The top bag, it’s on 24 |
| Run up on this bitch and watch the semi blow |
| Laid too many down on too many flow |
| I left them pale, talking Demi Moore |
| This bread got me eating like it’s dinner rolls |
| Now I’m snatching plates, where your dinner go |
| Ain’t too many real gangsters left in it, bro, nah |
| Shit I’m like Cortez, these niggas Kenneth Cole |
| Jack the swag, shout out to Rosay |
| Now I’m a rock star, shout out to Coldplay |
| Coldest cube, shout out to OShay |
| Just legendary, like the OJays |
| Catch me hitting corners in the clean grown |
| Vanilla paint seats, icecream cones |
| Till the kings home, I’m in the king’s throne |
| Beating on my chest like I’m king Kong |
| Rubber band man, bitch I got stash |
| Cause I’m a dough boy, what you know about that? |
| You can call me T.I., handling my B. I |
| Guns, guns like a G.I., Hoes cause I’m a P. I |
| I bring them out, cause my bread is long |
| And its big things popping till I’m dead and gone |
| You can call me T.I., handling my B. I |
| Guns like a G.I., Hoes cause I’m a P. I |