Lyrics:
shirts, socks and sandels
Keep the God in me, the Hova Ja knew Allah in me
Ball wit' me, don't tell 'em who saw when 'bout to squall wit' me
Fall wit
Oh my god I just love Thahomie
Sandy beaches and sunsets
Atlantic ave posted wit my niggas we all fresh
Sandy beaches and sunsets
Atlantic ave
the average that know ya, I peep game… like I knew one of who develop, my bro deep pain, couldn’t believe it as we tell em, Soulja boy… to many claiming to be
even turnt bout no hoes on my dick
I felt like I got burnt
Just cus they ain't have no sense
U gotta build wit yo bitch
Wen it come to your defense
y'all be two sided
My gas way too loud this shit too rowdy
I like the foreign hoes love em' exotic
And she wanna fuck wit' me cause I'm big poppin'
And he
Cause the streets aint where it is, foreal
(Rxnel Verse I)
Face gated I aint gotta tell ‘em
Who I is
Drive-by’s, look
We aint catching Ubers here
Aye…
Slimed out so i gotta keep my gun by me niggas slimed out so I gotta keep my gun
Slimed out so i gotta keep my gun by me niggas slimed T N T shit we
,
Or i hop in the coupe and take off the brains for em,
Tell the boys to back up,
I’m wit the gang and you know that they all strapped up,
He talkin
Cause opps aint out here overthinkin they shit
Dope boy I'm out here movin' that reefa
Get that baby blue dem hunnids I need 'em
Shawty bad I put that
Hotboy
Yea
An never mentioned that other boy
I knocked em up out my polorid
Nigga know dat I'm a Florida boy
Yea
An never mentioned that other boy
I
Duckin' the alphabet boys, we in that T top
I told em Spottem I Gottem that choppa beatbox
My trap game way to sick we flew/flu them Ps out
He in paperwork,
gotta stay wit a clip like yuh
Enemies all out to get me just cuz I got M's boy you sick
You ain't my dawg sick em like Micheal Vick
M&Ms in my bank Mike
my last resort tell L
to keep the Cali cause little down wit his essays
parlaying down in the valley
Hook
[13] - I'm a creep 59
to the end
and imma dumb nigga
I still be in these street
I had to put on all my young niggas
I leave I got a gun wit em
Couple pounds of runtz wit em
Gelato cake n
Soulja Boy Tell'em!
Jumped Inside The Showerrr
Then I Get Stupid Fresh
Turn My Swag On, Put That Ice On My Neck
Call On Miami (Miami) yeah That's
paper route stack cheese!
[Verse 1: E-40]
Drinkin aftershock! on the soil smokin a beedi
Fillin my wheaties in the trenches, lookin out for em
really going on
Make it look like a lot of stealing going on
Boy them cops is killers in my home
Nigga shot dead in the middle of the street
I ain't no
head now
And forgot where we came
Them boys so lame
(Them boys so lame)
Least that's what you tell em
Go ahead it's all fine cause we ain't get
man's
Bitch bend over
Girl take this dick, I told ya
Make a bitch say you, like Soulja
All this money on me, I'm colder
Crazy world, mane this shit got my
prevailed
Enjoyin' my freedom, got two kids as long as I feed'em
I'm here for the fam that's there when I need'em
[Mark Curry]
Yo, uh uh uh, hello
It
scare you, I can tell 'cause your shivering
Lyrics label wit an X and not a G
I say fuck the police, yo, so now they after me
I'm wanted by the law so
future wifey
Soulja Boy Tell 'Em, yeah
You can be my Bonnie, I can be your Clyde
You could be my wife, text me, call me
I need you in my life, yeah,
Berry B an I'm wit my brother bankroll
Free ya bitch the gang nga Free my brother bankroll
Free my nephew rozay Dennis Rodman we on bullshit
My
tell 'em I ain't really religious
They say, "That's cool, Papi, we get it
But just be cool and don't be trippin'"
If a nigga try me, I'ma handle my
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