Lyrics:
We just touched down in L.A. just like Bruins (hey, ayy)
Got a fifty in the clip, I'm times two of 'em (hey, hey)
Throwin' bowls, drop 'em off, yeah,
out-to-date
Cocked the Drac', niggas ain't talkin' crazy, bitch, but I'm prepared
Three-fifty online, not from mine, I'm still the type to go pop a Xan'
Drop
wa makgotla)
You can hum
In Mark chapter ten
The Bible says from verse forty-six to fifty-two
There was this man who was born blind
The Bible says
a 50 caliber pistol in my holster
Ready to brandish my weapon
On the bitch made
Hoe ass niggas like Crooked Profit
Get the switchblade
I hope you
guard forgot why I was here
What I'm shopping for
Candy coated pixie sticks
Hookers by the slurpee machine
Looking to turn tricks for fix
As I reach up in
can and
Molly got the money moving
Remaking me move slow
I got ice rich so I'm whipping this
Got a choppa by the front doors
Been here for years I won't
yard
While the homie shuffle cards, I live large, they live large
We rock stars, no guitars, Backwoods rollin' by all
Stuff the Granddad 'til it look
industry niggas at parties like I don't wanna pop
Gorilla Nems, I'm that nigga they hate
Buck fifty through the window while you sit in your Wraith, uh
I
no come up out the blue W.a.s.t.e entertainment is nice
Try to flex and aint gon give it up we taking it right
Just by chance you think of taking us
rap but I come from the trap
I'ma get this shit by any means
Bitch, I came from the dirt, now my ashes exotic
You want a song, I want a feat', pussy
wish that time could go by fast
Somehow they manage to make it last
If I can't get no motherfucking satisfaction
We don't snatch kids, here we go nicknapping
Tell ya in plain English, not in Pig Latin
My enemies just
to fly
Pick the drop zone C47 comes in low
Feel the tap upon your leg that tells you go
See the circle of the fire down below
Fifteen
to two fifty cads roll these
What's on my mind is the teacher in the classroom
She said no pass, I asked to use the bathroom
I pulled my dick out then I
up dust off put back on ya boots
Chyna Whyte got these homies bout to bite their nails
I come through shake them down and calibrate their scales
I'm
how things go
His friends knew him by the name of Bingo
As he turned up the volume on the hot new single
(Turn it up son!)
From Looptroop his
into my face
You get 'em at movies get them
In a combo meal to save
Doesn't represent a rainbow
Might melt in your hand if you dare to wait
It comes in
plowed
And the weeds covered up the sun
[Chorus]
Hey well ain't it your birthday?
Then why aren't you smiling?
I just drove two hundred and fifty
the city of the mo
Man tho I'm a pisces its the tales of a scorpio
I wear Polo or maybe Isod
You pick the paradise its really by the bank wad
-Equipto
Shit
[Chorus - 2x]
My life is sweet
You could tell by the Benz and the Beamers and the Jeeps
Big wheels, big grills make them say oooh-weee
Custom made
ain't dropped nothing a while
These rappers are dead, you're better than all of them by a mile
They all sound the same, there ain't not one of them with
movin up, put your man out on the cut
If he bangin, hangin, or tryin to come up
Got that lleyo when he pumps it for the fiends to smoke
Cause he really
estate is
dwellin on the city on top of these sky scrapers
me? I keep a watch over the whole of my acres
to those who wanna take us from 5'0's to fakers
not look at pictures painted by presidents and unemployed prime ministers
In times of national peril, abomunists, as reality Americans
stand ready
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