Lyrics:
wide, yeah get on it dog
In every state, there's a station, c'mon y'all better crank this up
In every state, there's a station
Playin' Cash, Hank,
(I got 20 on my beat)
(Oh Lord, Jetson made another one)
Keed talk to 'em
I just told Lil Uzi pull up with it, we gon' shoot, yeah (say what?)
got time for you broke hoes
Gotta stack a lil bit more
Tryna get it by the boat load
Flip it, get it and go
Bitch I'm icy
Lit at nighty
Whatchu
a convertible on the Glock, it look like Lamborghini (yeah)
Put a convertible on the Glock, it look like Lamborghini
I just told lil' baby to bop before my girl
Ridin down i30
Bad lil bitch she tryna get dirty
Uh, fuck it up get sturdy
All that hating shit for the birdies yea
Yes I'm in a hurry, I ain't
[Intro: Styles P]
Ghost, Sigel, real niggaz load up
Throw your fuckin' hoodies on, it's goin' down
[Styles P (Beanie Sigel):]
Nah you can't
[Intro: Styles P]
Ghost, Sigel, real niggaz load up
Throw your fuckin' hoodies on, it's goin' down
[Styles P (Beanie Sigel):]
Nah you can't
Don’t care what they say A I, I fade away
Back to my cave Batman a black man today
Before I got faded 40 ounce come taste it
Up early still jaded in
(For the automobile has brought with it
In less than a lifetime
A new way of life
A new standard of living
A standard of living
Matched by no other
the talking, I ain't with the lip, cracking like a whip, get messy
She ain't with the talking, she riding, lil cowgirl, something like Jesse
It's time to prove
and lean til that mutha fucka flip
And every club in Cali crackin' its gangsta town
Keep a couple of niggaz with me that'll bang you down
Now lil mama put
Throwing the George
Fill up the safe til it bust through the doors
Pop that boy
We gone smoke him in Dior Dior
Pull out that fire
We gone leave his ass neon
(They hear, oh, yeah)
I hit her from the back, the rear (The rear), then I disappear (I'm gone)
I crank it up a notch, I'm lit, got my gang in the spot
Uh
Yea
It's Slugg nigga
Lul Benji
Beat up the trap tryin' to hit us a lick
Crazy how niggas they die with they stick
Gotta walk down gotta empty
me that's real talk
Still grinding still tryna pay them bills off
Niggas grown as fuck and they still soft
I crank that oldschool up and I peel off
Big
pullin up with me, fuck a invite
And she too cool but her mood on thin ice
I hit a sharp left
If you claimin you the best
Ima crank it up and hit you with
of me her words inside of baby it’s all bout the flip
Shit
Christian diors yea the ones wit the grip staying focused I’m never gon slip
Lil bitch like
and, Lil' Jay finna take that hoe
You ain't with this shit, don't be in it though
I'm CEO, tell my members go up the score
You ain't with this shit, you
up for free shit it ain't adding up
I gave that lil nigga a VM told him pack it up
Yeah yeah pack it up and then we rack it up
Make a new beat and it's
brief
Run off with yo shit I'm a thief
Then I put yo hoe up in my sheets
Seen that thottie's ass and it blew my mind (Woah)
But I cannot get cuffed by no
crank it
Mix it up, I bet we drink it,
Don't worry, know what we doin'
Head home when the sun starts moving
No sleep gotta get to work quick
Good Lord
wishin that y'all could come kick it
I told my lil dude to just chill
I told him just count up the bills
I told my lil dude to just do what you want and go
Face down I'm fucked up
Flip me over, fuck me up
I know what you're thinking, she said
Oh, it's all right here
Laying out her holy spread
They see it
to grow
I heard this time we really need it tho
Lil niggas on beasta mode
The kinda lil young niggas you ain't see before
It ain't even they fault they
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