| MTM, hit 'em with the heat
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| Ayy, I’m back in the cycle, feel like a psycho, feel like I’m Michael, yuh
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| Don’t look at my bread, don’t look at my whip, take a look at my FICO
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| , yuh
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| I’m pacin' and thinkin' of robbin' a bank with the homies I hang with
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| These hoes wanna make it, the bank or the banquet
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| Come hang with the gang, get shady
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| Drunk drive in a Mercedes, four-five on the hip daily
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| Screamin' out, «Fuck you pay me»
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| I ain’t patient, I got OCD
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| Feel like I’m not controllin' me
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| Still them hoes gon' fall for me
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| Pussy that they offer me is often not too luxury
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| But let me see what that lick read
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| Triple digits in the six-speed
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| Think I fell in love when that bitch hit me
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| I might fuck around and bust her down
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| And buy a Bentley for that bitch
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| While you was fucking with them lames, I made my baby mama rich
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| Baby, play with my dick, not my emotions
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| Shed so many tears that I could fill an ocean
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| We was coastin', now we roller coastin'
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| Look inside my eyes and feel the pain that you put on me
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| I just pray to Peep that you don’t leave me lonely
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| Thousand bitches but they can’t do nothin' for me
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| You my one and only
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| I know you need some company so come on over
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| Do you love me, do you love exposure?
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| Ayy, man, Pouya, man, I got you, man
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| Tell these hoes, «Shut the fuck up,» yeah
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| Check this pimpin', gotta watch these women, they catfish (They catfish)
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| And it look like Meech in the club every time I come through tippin' (Big Meech)
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| Drop that bag, maybe two or three, that’s if she different (Drop a bag)
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| Wanna come back, I got that sack, it look like Christmas (Backend)
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| She down to fuck, you tryna cuff, my nig', good luck, ayy (You trippin')
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| This ain’t no robbery but my bitch is stuck up, ayy (My bitch bad)
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| She bad as fuck, well like what’s in my cup
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| She the Quicker Picker Upper, I’m loving the way she suck, ayy (Pick me up)
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| She call me Jay (Yeah, ho), I call her bae (Yeah, ho)
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| We ain’t the Carters but that rock all in your face (It's the rock)
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| These bitches thirsty but these hoes ain’t got no taste (Ain't got no taste)
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| It’s cuffin' season, man, these hoes finna get replaced any day, ayy |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Six Speed , by - Juicy J. Song from the album The South Got Something to Say, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп