| I’m sittin at the table, countin' my money
|
| Ain’t where I wanna be but I got a few hundreds
|
| A lot of talk on the streets like a nigga crossin' me
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| Well, that’s somethin' I gotta see
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| Is it how my chain swings? |
| Tired of ma face
|
| Tellin' lies, getting niggas wives tied up and raped
|
| Similar to da mob, deeper than a rap
|
| All you niggas gettin' robbed, all the cell phones tapped
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| Bullet in my head, bullet in my chest
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| Yeah, they want a nigga dead, they envy my success
|
| To be loved, to be loved, oh what a feelin'
|
| Hundred rounds in da drum
|
| Niggas gettin whacked, no sympathy for the soft
|
| Niggas snitchin', I know bitches who clippin' your dick off
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| I’ma boss champagne with the steak
|
| Pink rose jay sittin' ace by da case
|
| Brisco line, 2 young niggas, what it do
|
| He gotta pretty shone and he wanna bring her through
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| That’s love, we go back to the blue house
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| And if she bad enough, may take her to da new house
|
| My Maserati be da new body
|
| Got your girl panties wetter than a pool party
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| I got her sleepin' in the king size
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| Last night I had tha bitch sittin' ring side
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| You wanna go that route, go there
|
| I been on this road before
|
| (Uh, huh)
|
| I know gunplay, you know gunplay
|
| (Yeah)
|
| I’m shootin for the win but ready for the loss
|
| Both bags on the tip on my finger
|
| Yellin' bring it, I’m swingin' dat iron
|
| (Dat iron)
|
| When I’m swingin' dat iron
|
| (Dat iron)
|
| Ain’t thinkin' 'bout time
|
| Ain’t thinkin' 'bout mine
|
| Ain’t thinkin' bout dying
|
| My nigga so street, my swisha so sweet
|
| All this money on the table, how a nigga gon' sleep
|
| Speculations on my deal, it was over ten mil
|
| Blowin' herb, chauffer plus home in New Zeal through
|
| Beat the case like Gotti, we the Trill Murder Inc
|
| I erased, slip and slide, they rainy in the mink
|
| Look dead in her eye, it’s da end of the road
|
| In the purple Maybach means dat I’m getting' more dough
|
| Smell the Christian Dior, I used to be poor
|
| When you cross Florida lines, boy, I’m your leor
|
| Boobi Boys steal, Boobi Boy’s real
|
| You can name a lot of lames that the Boobi Boys killed
|
| Brisco line to young nigga, what it do
|
| Said he gotta couple kilos and he wanna bring 'em through
|
| That’s love, we go back to da blue house
|
| And if he brought enough I may buy me a new house
|
| You wanna go that route, go there
|
| I been on this road before
|
| (Uh, huh)
|
| I know gunplay, you know gunplay
|
| (Yeah)
|
| I’m shootin for the win but ready for the loss
|
| Both bags on the tip on my finger
|
| Yellin' bring it, I’m swingin' dat iron
|
| (Dat iron)
|
| When I’m swingin' dat iron
|
| (Dat iron)
|
| Ain’t thinkin' 'bout time
|
| Ain’t thinkin' 'bout mine
|
| Ain’t thinkin' bout dying
|
| Nigga how I’m livin', damn near dying
|
| For every digit I get, fuck they know 'bout that
|
| I aint never put shit on the line, just shit in they rhyme
|
| I shoot a nigga shit on a rhyme
|
| Wanna bet nigga, you ain’t a threat nigga
|
| Never seen a laptop in da projects nigga
|
| Just powder, cut with comet, fuck them comics
|
| Convicts and buyin' it, if they ain’t coppin' or fryin' it
|
| Then don’t get a nigga fired up behind sum
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| Fuck shit, ma nigga don’t want this
|
| Who dat, who dat behind the curtain
|
| I’ll merk 'em, wizard of oz niggas
|
| Hiding behind money, hiding behind luxury
|
| I see 'em shootin' up all that fuck shit
|
| It’s getting' ugly, got torch on the line
|
| Said he got a couple nuns, I told him
|
| Grab two koo, bring 'em on through
|
| You wanna go that route, go there
|
| I been on this road before
|
| (Uh, huh)
|
| I know gunplay, you know gunplay
|
| (Yeah)
|
| I’m shootin for the win but ready for the loss
|
| Both bags on the tip on my finger
|
| Yellin' bring it, I’m swingin' dat iron
|
| (Dat iron)
|
| When I’m swingin' dat iron
|
| (Dat iron)
|
| Ain’t thinkin' 'bout time
|
| Ain’t thinkin' 'bout mine
|
| Ain’t thinkin' bout dying |