| I broke down a pound and a half
|
| And sold bout a hundred quaters
|
| And it was all profit
|
| I chumped me a nigga for it
|
| A hundred dollars a Q that
|
| Ten stacks ready to blow it
|
| Another half pound ready to blow it
|
| FUCK IT! |
| I don’t need no chorus
|
| I promise I’m going through it
|
| Only trying get to it
|
| Be better than me to the homies that I’ve influenced
|
| I swear you don’t really know me
|
| You only know the music
|
| They trying to figure a nigga
|
| Will let’s see if I can confuse them
|
| I’m just smoking on this liquor
|
| And sipping on this weed
|
| I had to pop a molly just so I could go to sleep
|
| Ciroc peach with a couple freaks
|
| Wake up in a suite
|
| Blowing swisher sweets
|
| Shake life that right
|
| I been doing this all week
|
| Augghhh!
|
| Just popped down
|
| Can’t stand up
|
| Lean got me sitting sideways
|
| WTF!
|
| Just popped down
|
| Can’t stand up
|
| Lean got me sitting sideways
|
| WTF!
|
| I’m so fucking throwed
|
| I can’t find my keys
|
| Girly on her knees
|
| And I can’t make her leave
|
| She so fucking geeked
|
| She wanna do the team
|
| She on a bean
|
| And bout nineteen swishers filled with… OG
|
| Mix Ciroc with the lean
|
| If I drive then I speed
|
| Got them AC Slater muscle cars
|
| And them tires Screech
|
| Skerrrt!
|
| I’m gone
|
| Peel off like a banana
|
| On a yellow bar
|
| A yellow tab
|
| And a duece
|
| In a yellow Fanta
|
| Riding with two straight up killas
|
| Fresh out the slammer
|
| And they crippin'
|
| When they put in work they wear red bandanas
|
| I swear I don’t understand em'
|
| But you no wanna see em'
|
| Nigga if I put the G in the right nigga hands
|
| They crime scenes!
|
| I sleep when I count a trillion
|
| Creeping I’m so familiar
|
| Cause I beat till it’s over with
|
| Keep the heat cause I’m cold nigga
|
| Squeeze the pistol like it’s a controller just to show you
|
| Fuck around and wreck my car if I drive sober
|
| I stay high as gas just so I won’t spazz
|
| Don’t make me drop a bag on a nigga ass
|
| I heard these niggas mad that I’m getting cash
|
| Them trigger happy niggas with me gone ride
|
| Like it’s six flags
|
| I’m with that
|
| I’m bout that
|
| All black when it’s pitch black
|
| Hop out that like what’s up
|
| I gots to get some get back
|
| I still wish they bring the bricks back
|
| Litia ave. |
| I miss that
|
| So I’m eastside stunting
|
| Took the ice out my drink
|
| And put it where my wrist at
|
| MENTAL WARFARE!
|
| YOU DON’T WANNA GO TO WAR WITH A SOLDIER
|
| MASTER P TOLD YO STUPID ASS THAT BOUT FIFTEEN YEARS AGO
|
| Trash Bag Gang! |