Lyrics:
And then my voice got raspy
'Cause I was smokin' on some Cali and my eyes was dazed
I was in the zone, coulda thrown up them tre's
And if you lost, Lil
the stick
Young Nigga pull up on ice
Young Nigga pull up on ice
Young Nigga pull up on ice
Young Nigga pull up on ice
Young Nigga pull up on ice
Young
get your bread
Count it up run it up let them bitches spread
Then pour liq' out for lil cuh then take it to the head
He looking over me watching
like a visa
Woke up today feeling evil
Stuff my backwood wit some diesel
I’m lookin for teq Tequila
Sippin on syrup by tha litter
Ride wit some racks
stains
Pussy stay up in yo lane
I’m tryna make myself a name
I’m not trippin bout no fame
Vvss drippin off my neck
These shits here they cost a check
I be
on the block
Shawty I do not play games with these rappers that's how they get shot
Had a couple of my OGs up in city hall nipping it to rob
Waiting for niggas
rob it
I feel like Batman and Robin
I took the stick from the closet
Ready to air it like Comcast
I been feelin' like Bombastic Bag-Man
Or like Richard,
a different vibe got my own lane
Tell by chains on nigga I ain't playin
I came in with the change
Shawty go left right up droppin it down
All for the check
Pharoahe Monch
I had it on repeat
For that Green Piece of Paper
U Ain't Ready 4 Me
Good Times
Roll up the tree
Lick Shots
From out the chopper
Pour out
serious niggas (they up)
But his nephew Tez around surrounded by broke, serious killers (they up)
Tez pull up like, "Damn Unc let me holla at you for
on
Yea motherfuckin' nigga, it's on
Fill them clips to the max and let
Me get up in my mol
Different things I'm sposed to do
I gotta stick to the code
Lil bro out the hood he really came up Off of doe popping
Tell Lil Baby call me
I'm having motion
The new 4 pockets
Shawty ain't got no mileage
I'm
that
Fill my bag up like a lunch sack
Came through in the nighttime
When I shine bright, I can stand by
I got hate on my back, I can't breathe
Ooh, I
sucker
Don't go below the navel
I'm up in Lil' Hatti
I'm blowin' on Jamaica
I'm in the pimper beemer
I'm with a salt shaker
Now I'm in Dade County
I see
nigga, playin' cops and robbers
You still a snitch, and I'm still a robber
I might fuck the lil' bitch, no, I can't be the father
Pull up with sticks
gon run up a bag
She know This nigga gon run up a bag
Lil bitch ain't nothin like these H O Es impressed by the double R keys
Lil bitch got her own lil
tell him aim the stick at you (rob him)
Pop your boy like a pill, make him take meds
This waxed denim on me look like latex
Told her if she want the sh-,
Adderall's coming by the truckload
Everywhere I go, you know I'm in Rob mode
Always gettin' money, I'm chasing a bankroll
Cascade, SWATS, we was ridin' with
on the Giants
All you seen was chunks of that nigga flyin'
No C.O,'s, yo somebody need to mop the shit up
Ayo, it's a stick up
I'm in the castle blasted
paying bills
Fo reeeaaalll.. by our God damn selves
Fuck thirty niggas and she don't need help
(Stick that thang out!) Some more
Uh! uh! some more,
cones
Bitch pull up I want that smoke
Fire it up, watch him choke
Give a fuck what Jesus wrote
A nigga heart is really cold
Up that stick and watch it
the shit won't stick, my last rappy was a bitch
They gave him twenty-eight years 'cause the nigga wouldn't close his lips (damn, damn, damn)
Just be cool,
Fishie)
Show me them lil’ racks and its a robbery bitch (I’m gon rob you)
Got a curve on the stick it ain’t no hockey stick (this ain’t no hockey stick
And then my voice got raspy
'Cause I was smokin' on some Cali and my eyes was dazed
I was in the zone, coulda thrown up them tre's
And if you lost, Lil
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