Lyrics Suicide - Jim Jones, Ryder, Sen City

Suicide

I got young niggas that bust for me, fly girls that lust for me
Valet pulling that truck for me, big 40's still tucked on me
Red bottoms, red Jordan’s
Hopin' out and they cheer for me
Dumb wippy, the little punts got one wish with a lot of ice on it
One chick outta sight, bitch the bomb like dynamite
She like girls that like girls, my one bitch, she not a dyke
Wutchu call that?
She got a man but he outta sight
She bags bitches, I mean bad bitches
That bad bitch’s got fire tonight
Count that up
Start her up with that Polo tickin'
Damn (what happened next?)
Then she snapped when that Molly kicked in
She couldn’t wait just to swallow dickin'
That’s the girl, I mean she’s a freak
If you had to ask what was my description
Picture nas-nasty girl (nasty girl)
She trained to go (she trained to go)
How you work that thing?
Up and down the pole
I’m a I’m a pack that thing (pack that thing)
And let it blow (and let it blow)
I te-te-tell 'er go girl, go home
Yea bitch, throw that
She learned the way to make 'er talk like that
He geesses on the chain, all heavy gunners
In the caddy ready blowin' purple silly, let it loose
Gu-gu-gutter nigga, they know it
Pussy poppin', she rollin'
Bag the bitch, they had to blast the bitch
So I could smash the bitch, now she open
Got the baddest bitch deep throatin'
Boy comes stack a whip and we blowin'
Tiffin to the highest shit but not styly shit
And all the master bitches be on it
Come to glue droop me, they too thin
Any nigga pottin' get 2−30
Cut the bullshit, I really do this
I’m gonna chop their hearts 'til I boom off
Get the nasty girl with that nasty
I better bust 'er ass and she woo’d out
She’s top New York for my caddy
And a thirsty ride, bitch cool out
(Bitch cool out, bitch cool out)