| I issue dope out of my ho house
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| I count money and blow smoke out
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| I fuck groupies, I sell shows out
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| I lost niggas, I pour more out
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| Ain’t your business, stay in your lane
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| Ayy don’t speak on shit you don’t know 'bout
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| All that back and forth talkin'
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| If it’s real beef then shots gos out, yeah
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| That’s just how I feel about it, that’s just how I’m feelin'
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| I’m cruisin' the foreign with some bunnies, drop the ceiling
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| Ho callin' my phone, talkin' 'bout time, you ain’t mine
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| Niggas tryna get with the gang, nah, you ain’t my kind
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| You ain’t my kind, pussy stand in line
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| Don’t call my phone, when you do I hit decline
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| See shots gon' go out, they gon' ask me 'bout my whereabouts
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| I was at my ho house with my dick all in that ho mouth
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| Icebox got my wrist froze, on me seafood, I’m at Pappadeaux
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| I got my lil young bitch, mouth wide open, trap don’t ever close
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| I got my lil niggas on some hot shit, ridin' with dracos
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| If they catch a charge don’t worry 'bout it, bonds I make those
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| Thumbin' through these pesos in the bando with Big Dandro
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| I went crazy in Guns N Ammo, I must think I’m Rambo
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| Through money, guns, and crime, BGE, yeah that’s my famo
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| I handle wicks like a candle
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| Pull a drive-by out a Lambo
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| I issue dope out of my ho house
|
| I count money and blow smoke out
|
| I fuck groupies, I sell shows out
|
| I lost niggas, I pour more out
|
| Ain’t your business, stay in your lane
|
| Ayy don’t speak on shit you don’t know 'bout
|
| All that back and forth talkin'
|
| If it’s real beef then shots gos out, yeah
|
| That’s just how I feel about it, that’s just how I’m feelin'
|
| I’m cruisin' the foreign with some bunnies, drop the ceiling
|
| Ho callin' my phone, talkin' 'bout time, you ain’t mine
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| Niggas tryna get with the gang, nah, you ain’t my kind
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| Indictment time, niggas out here droppin' dimes
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| I’m somewhere layin' low with my feet up on recline
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| Don’t pay no mind, I’m just worried 'bout me and mine
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| You wasn’t straight from the start
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| You a fraud, I peeped the signs
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| You lil niggas so behind
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| You need to catch up like Heinz
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| Diamonds, ooh they shinin'
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| Invested fifty in my time
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| I walk in Christian Loub’s, spike on my shoe like porcupine
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| Hitters in the trap spot, holdin' choppers, lookin' out blinds, yeah
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| I’m on the grind, ooh I been runnin' up iron, yeah
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| My watch ain’t regular, I got them pointers in mine
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| I got a ho that’s a dime, she never get out of line
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| She know if she say the wrong thing or speak out of turn
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| She can get fired
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| I issue dope out of my ho house
|
| I count money and blow smoke out
|
| I fuck groupies, I sell shows out
|
| I lost niggas, I pour more out
|
| Ain’t your business, stay in your lane
|
| Ayy don’t speak on shit you don’t know 'bout
|
| All that back and forth talkin'
|
| If it’s real beef then shots gos out, yeah
|
| That’s just how I feel about it, that’s just how I’m feelin'
|
| I’m cruisin' the foreign with some bunnies, drop the ceiling
|
| Ho callin' my phone, talkin' 'bout time, you ain’t mine
|
| Niggas tryna get with the gang, nah, you ain’t my kind |