Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Fucks with You, artist - Max B. Album song Library of a Legend, Vol. 5, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 04.12.2010
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Biggavelli
Song language: English
Fucks with You |
Yeah, it’s ya boy… I'm back Byrd Gang |
Another rap extravaganza classic for you niggas |
WE TRYNA GET PAAAID, CAN I GET SOME BUCKS WITH CHUUUUUU? |
GET BLAAAZED, CAN I HIT FROM STUFF WITH CHUUUUUU? |
GET BRAAAINS, NIGGA I FUCKS WITH CHUUUUU… |
CAUSE WE THEM NIGGAZ YOU LOVING! |
WE FUCKS WITH EXPENSIVE HOEEEEEEES… THE BIRD SWANG |
AS FAR AS EXPENSIVE CLOTHEEEEEES… IT'S BYRD GANG |
NIGGA WE GETTING THIS DOOOOOOOOOOUGH… |
CAUSE WE THEM NIGGAZ YOU LOVING! |
If trap is the way out then y’all niggas stuck there (for' real) |
Coffee shops the only way you see Starbucks here (for' real) |
And I’m a different story (ha!), feeling out of line |
In that deuce so I think I need a whole different story! |
Can’t judge a book by it’s cover |
Comes to yay you can’t judge a brick by it’s color (what!) |
You only know if it’s butter when you put it in the raw |
And that watch ain’t flooded if you still see the border |
If he doesn’t hustle, somebody around him does |
And if he ain’t homie, somebody around him cuz |
(Cause?) Cause gangster ain’t easily portrayed (nah) |
Death before dishonor niggas easily betrayed |
Same niggas from the sandbox, I bought drops (drops) |
One year or two times we can watch the ball drop (ball drop) |
We by-coastal you niggas ain’t playing right (nah) |
Drive-by and toast you, you niggas ain’t spraying right |
Five seven with thirty five homie pitch a buck |
Hit the club with the bitches, ma ain’t the only one to fuck |
Cause my BG’s so prolific, you sluts can do whatever |
I’m abusing my name buzzing from Brooklyn to Bermuda |
Nigga’s caught him slipping again, he ain’t never shoot us |
Bigga caught up pimping again and he ain’t neva Scooba |
Thousand dollar bags of Buddha, I drop back on my scooter |
My Ruger’ll do ya like they did Martin Luther Jr |
A lil bigger rocking some shoes thinking that they cushy |
Lil niggas got it confused thinking I’m a pussy |
Watch how I scream with the team cause the clock is ticking |
I gotta lean when I squeeze cause the Glock be kicking |
I be blowing on the stank, blowing on the dank |
My quarter across the border I ordered what it drink |
Got ya daughter caught up in loops all up in the lane |
All in the paint, we balling and caught up in the mix… OWWW |
We do it to the death, a hundred hoopties I done wrecked (Capo!) |
I got a bitchy attitude but stay super duper fresh (stay fly!) |
My shooters do the rest (bang bang), put the product on the curb |
If I’m not out of town I’m up in Harlem on the curb |
Or handling B. I, in the office with my feet up |
Stay running through the city, stay cautious if you see us |
Been known for going hard, be flossing off the meter (balliiiiin!) |
We gotta stay fly, Austin to the sneakers |
I love the purple, stay coughing off the reefer (stay high) |
Break the speed limit something sporty with a heater (speediiiiin!) |
You fuckboys, you’ll never be like us (not at all) |
Stunting at the light, in a 07' Spyder |
Behind the G-wall, I know several lifers (Eastside!) |
Eight forty eights they was heavy in the Vipers (balliiiiin!) |
Six forty five, cherry and it’s piped up |
The wrist forty five, chain heavy and it’s iced up |