| Big Daddy Hoffa coming to you here with a kimber
|
| T max 2.45, 1911
|
| This baby oughta be nice right there
|
| Cocked locked and ready to rock!
|
| Gone with the sauce
|
| Got the.45 tucked in the bag
|
| Hit 'em with the hawk
|
| Naw fuck it dawg
|
| Whip 'em with the strap
|
| I’ve been on the fucking road
|
| I just ended rock n roll
|
| We’ve been running up the score
|
| Turnt your house into a home
|
| Ugh
|
| I don’t fucking roam
|
| All I do is count the cash
|
| Bitch I’m coming in your house
|
| Let’s get freaky with the strap
|
| We don’t fuck with alt right
|
| Y’all ain’t never been a threat
|
| If y’all come to Baltimore we gon' stick 'em for their racks
|
| We gon' beat them crackers dead
|
| We gon' fuck up on they wife
|
| Take em for a ride
|
| More hits
|
| More life
|
| Tight grip on the chopper
|
| That kickback light
|
| Put hands on a blogger
|
| Make 'em beg for his life
|
| Gone with the sauce
|
| Got the.45 tucked in the bag
|
| Hit 'em with the hawk
|
| Naw fuck it dawg
|
| Whip 'em with the strap
|
| I’ve been on the fucking road
|
| I just ended rock n roll
|
| We’ve been running up the score, man
|
| I say that pussy’s off the richter
|
| No shit, uh
|
| I fuck that bitch
|
| I fuck your baby sitter
|
| I hit her
|
| I took her to a show, man what’s the issue
|
| I split her
|
| This groovy nigga bangin' on your sister
|
| No kicker
|
| I can’t read
|
| How many cars does it take
|
| To make this shit an easy race
|
| How many cars does it take
|
| To make this fucking pain go away
|
| Truth! |