Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Boll Weevil, artist - Tex Williams. Album song Two for Texas, in the genre КантриDate of issue: 27.07.2008
Record label: Black Cat
Song language: English
Boll Weevil |
| The work, it do magic like Criss Angel |
| I’m sellin' more chickens than Bojangles |
| We shoot the chopper from your head to your ankle |
| So many chains on my neck, they get tangled |
| I’m in Atlanta sipping Texas Ranger |
| To Atlanta cuz my goons, you can’t touch 'em |
| My niggas bangin' GD, twist your fingers |
| Mystikal 45, that bitch come with danger |
| So many bitches they callin' me gigolo |
| Got a fox on my back, not talkin' Vivica |
| All of these niggas they mimickin' |
| Most of the money got energy |
| Whippin' up chemicals |
| Swag is not usual (wow) |
| Duffle on my back for Lucifer |
| Jumping and capping out these cubicals |
| Never made honor roll |
| I’m in the top and you falling like dominos |
| I lost my feeling for women |
| When I learned how it feel to thumb thru the Benjamin |
| Due to the fact that my Rollie’s a fifty |
| Arm & Hammer like I’mJohn Henry |
| Professor Klump pockets, I’ma chemist |
| Racks on me like I’m playing tennis |
| Hundred thousand on my new Bentley |
| Spend a hundred thousand on my friend bitch |
| Gold like I’m Shabba on Africa, shining |
| I’m selling 16's, ain’t talking bout rhymin' |
| I’m looking for drops to change the climax |
| No comprendo if you ain’t about peso |
| Got the clay and serve the four, call it Clay-Doh |
| I think I heard my front door |
| Go get a skurr, 100 bricks for Diego |
| Speaking of the yayo, Young Guapo Young Guapo he all about peso |
| Switcharoo on your main bitch, me and my nigga, hell nah I won’t date hoes |
| You speaking about Christian Louboutin, we’ll get man by the caseload |
| I’m a boss like Rozay, Young Guapo got niggas on the payroll |
| We used to it, not new to it, just stacking out the paper |
| Wen’t from standing on the block, to smoking OG in skyscraper (top floor condo) |
| My niggas got bean, no lasers |
| Cavalli my jeans, ten chains on with a Versace blazer |
| (Longway, bitch) |
| Longway reloaded, blood on my blue Benjamin like a Crip runner, trap will blow |
| his out |
| Balenci' Givenchy, I trap it down |
| Five naked bitches give me bubble bath, Longway Nino Brown |
| Put the foot in the cage just to break a pound |
| Fiend and fork, they want brown sugar |
| Sneakin' N Geekin' onSugar Hill |
| Bitches suck my dick tryna get it shooting |
| Longway put the bitch out with the work |
| Pablo my plug and Mr. Pablo, cop the lil bitch’s (?) |
| At the Chevron rolling up a doobie |
| Taking pictures, this ain’t no camera, you a movie |
| Longway goin' thru groovy |
| Longway gone, boy you groovy? |
| And my backwood stuffed crushed fruity |
| And I don’t wanna fuck the bitch if she ain’t Cuban |
| The bitch gon' juug me a cuban |
| And my Rolex Luger |
| Strawberry, vanilla, chocolate three scoops |
| My diamonds confused her |
| She think she on ruffies |
| Diamonds from Africa, shine from Africa |
| Fresh out the banana boat |
| We come for the dope and we (?) |
| I make the white boy jump and my wrist a kilo |
| I have them bow down to me like I’m out on in dimensions |
| Choppin' bricks at the penintentiary |
| Damn, a young niggathreated |
| Over a hunned of ‘em fuckin with the bitches |
| Hold it down, these niggas snitching |
| I’m the reason why you niggas creeping |
| Young nigga do it for the hood |
| Chopper with a wood grain |
| Young nigga Bangkok, call me Hancock |
| Chopper still got the chicken dreadlock |
| You bitch in the film for the bedrock |
| Pussy ass nigga caught a case, said he’s deadlocked |
| Turned around, shot them with the same Glock |
| Longway said he shot them with the same Glock |
| Young nigga feeling like 2Pac |
| I’m still with hitting niggas with the re-rock |
| Worked around a Bentley, work in a tee-top |
| They going in front, but don’t panic |
| They calling me Quavo, the stick 'em up bandit |
| They want the chopper, I let them have it |
| We hop on the PJ, touchdown on Atlantic |
| Young niggas running 'round like bulletproof |
| Tryna fuck the Migo, better nigga shoot |
| Deuce deuce, pocket rocket in the VIP booth |
| Now you wanna ask me what you do |
| Wet diamond like a swimming pool |
| Had to spend two thousand for Margiela — shoes |
| Young Quavo whipping up the chemical |
| Hell nah, nigga never finished school |
| SRT Audi, I’m dabbin' in it |
| I got your bitch, wanna leave her junkies in it |
| Mama she told me «go get the bitch» |
| I putted my wrist in the water, it started swimming |
| On the north side we were really getting it |
| And I’m sunken, I’m spinnin it, Longway in it |
| We were road running, fucking up the city |