Lyrics Bankrolls & Groupie Hoes - Lil Poppa, Stunna 4 Vegas

Bankrolls & Groupie Hoes

All the real niggas gettin' murdered, I hope I don’t die the same way
But I ain’t worried, them youngins spinnin' the same day
I wasn’t surprise, my nigga died with the same 'K
And just 'cause they on live, all outside, them niggas ain’t safe
A hundred hoes in this bitch and they finna get hit the gang way
She fascinated at how they hit, she keep askin' me what my chain say
And if a nigga get to trippin', we wet this bitch up the rain way
On the ground where his head lay, tryna see what his brain think
And I done turned into a fiend, done started poppin' them everyday
What the fuck you niggas mean?
We rollin' different opps in every J
My brother hate you, then it’s fuck ya, yeah, I go whenever Quez say
Hold up, let me switch the topic, before I say some shit that Quez say
What that is in your pocket?
Hundreds, twenty’s, fifty’s
I keep fuckin' up my count, Goddamn, I’m trippin'
He got a bankroll on him, yeah, that’s probably why he limpin'
And he know all the hoes want him, that’s why he fuckin' all the bitches
Girl, what your name is?
Kisha?
Lisha?
Brittany?
My lil' gutter bitch, she with it, she know we don’t do no kissin'
They say them young niggas got chops and the Glocks extended
Better duck when they go to hittin', 'cause they don’t do no missin'
I’ma leave it in the streets, fuck a mention
What is beef?
We clear the smoke
Let me know if it’s some tension
My lil' hitta cutthroat, he say his trigger finger itching
We ain’t never duck smoke, I’m tryna get rid of them bitches
I just put a ten on a nigga, Percocet 10's in my body, I’m trippin'
Shawty eat the dick up like a video vixen
Spin a nigga block 'til every gun empty
And we won’t leave no witness, no, we don’t do no missin'
Fire in yo' face, I’m tryna knock a nigga nose off
I know we dumpin' out the gate, 'cause my killa think he O’Dawg
I put dick all in her face and I make shawty take her clothes off
Plenty hoes like Flava Flav, I line 'em up and do a roll call
What that is in your pocket?
Hundreds, twenty’s, fifty’s
I keep fuckin' up my count, Goddamn, I’m trippin'
He got a bankroll on him, yeah, that’s probably why he limpin'
And he know all the hoes want him, that’s why he fuckin' all the bitches
Girl, what your name is?
Kisha?
Lisha?
Brittany?
My lil' gutter bitch, she with it, she know we don’t do no kissin'
They say them young niggas got chops and the Glocks extended
Better duck when they go to hittin', 'cause they don’t do no missin'