Lyrics:
hit for a Band-Aid on a side bet, I'm finna bet again (I'm like, "Fuck it")
Pull out a fifty piece on you boys and drop on a better Benz, yeah
I got
bekunyiwa
I was trapping at the stu' namajita
God got me
Pops got me
Not forgetting amajita daar ekasi
Pull up 50 deep you nahmean
Akekho omunye opheth'
it's pissing me off talking all this crap but please don't be
Also meant to say got 50 bands I'm here to protect the city not ruined it but let's stop
eatin' up in,
Do not be callin' me about y'all hoes
Cause I ain't callin' nobody about mine,
N***a, I don't want your bitch she, Just help me get my rocks
or Wrong, We Ride, We Ride (Till the day I fu**ing die)
Right or Wrong, Right or Wrong, We Ride, We Ride
Right or wrong and you know ima ride yea uh
Kill
to heavens gates
And if I ever die hope pussy is my Resting place
And when ya with me I can guarantee a ride or die
The problem when you see us be the suicidal
we let that clap
I know you love looking up at me
Sorry sir but your daughters out back
By the tone we won't hear it ring
Send your boys they won't
the scene
Hit him with a five.fifty-six
Hollow tips, boy, I won't miss
Ooze creepin' in your shit
Catch you, hit you in your shit
Fuck your complex, bitch
I thank the lord for a full plate
Everytime I thought about giving up
I would get certain epiphany's
Insight you couldn't of got from nowhere else
the osmosis, villain from the underground, raising to the surface, any nigga can get it, I'll kill you with one of my verses, first it, stop stitching, stop
must've missed jail, nigga, why are you saggin'?
Thought you was tough, why the fuck you got on auto tune?
Shot at some intruders tryna rob me sleepin' in
shorties catchin' bodies, FaceTime me and drop the rakes
Got his lo', get his safe
Bitch, I'm rich, fuck a case
And you better have that wheel with that
pull us over
I don't want no problems 'cause of me"
Real nigga, will spill you
But his heart was way bigger
Ironic, nicest niggas I knew was real killers
can't fuck with yo period
I can let you suck my dick tho
[Verse 1]
Bill folds of 20s
Bank rolls of 100s
Body bags of 50s
Yeah I'm out here gettin money
soul
Ten Cadillacs, a diamond mill
Ten suits of clothes to dress to kill
A ten room house, some Bar B Q
And fifty chicks not over twenty-two
soul
Ten Cadillacs, a diamond mill
Ten suits of clothes to dress to kill
A ten room house, some Bar B Q
And fifty chicks not over twenty-two
figures by 20, heh)
(diss on Dre block, we spinnin', gang)
Yeah, my young nigga, he run down
When he run down on aim (He run down on aim)
You gon' lose ya
soul
Ten Cadillacs, a diamond mill
Ten suits of clothes to dress to kill
A ten room house, some Bar B Q
And fifty chicks not over twenty-two
cannot take this life or try
You people gotta go, my mind must be alone
I'm trynna kill myself I got the balls to ghost below
Young sweet devil bitter soul
the mud, you can't tell me 'nun
Out the slums, sounding like a slug
Max B tote the gun sSS on the Rari
I don't even need no arms
I don't even need no feet
I
soul
Ten Cadillacs, a diamond mill
Ten suits of clothes to dress to kill
A ten room house, some Bar B Q
And fifty chicks not over twenty-two
soul
Ten Cadillacs, a diamond mill
Ten suits of clothes to dress to kill
A ten room house, some Bar B Q
And fifty chicks not over twenty-two
soul
Ten Cadillacs, a diamond mill
Ten suits of clothes to dress to kill
A ten room house, some Bar B Q
And fifty chicks not over twenty-two
Judge a man by who he pop for
We pushing weight but we are not sore
I made a hunnid thousand dollars yesterday
But this year I want a lot more
I'm fucking
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