Lyrics:
Spread in the city I'm plumin'
Boy you got me hot, fumin'
We all make mistakes we human
Yo, I'm playing shows, getting paid by the fistful
Talk cheap
said put your hands in the air like it's 2006
I got something up by sleeve, and it ain't a bag of tricks
Now, ride with me (ride with me)
Ride with me
the street, yeah
I'm still gettin' this shit in by the week, yeah
I got out of town, plugs this shit ain't cheap
Nigga, I want a whole thousand for a p (Lean)
All the people that didn't want me way back
I tell them all that I got a new taste
When I start doing shows
And making bread off the 6 God
Man, it's
don't want it, You gon' lose
I stay elevatin' like a soul
If don't give me mine
(If don't give me mine) shit a revelation
Killin' niggas by the genocide
kid
My observations are unlimited, the government finished
Mc I'm a good citizen but they don't want me as a friend
Fuck it! soon I'm start to pack gap
feet
Ball like I'm Kobe cus he was a G, when I was twelve I ain't got no jeans
She told me I got a millionaire gene, got like a hunnid tricks up in my
Let me slut you out
See what you about, yeah
They say that talk is cheap, can't go by word of mouth
Show me, how nasty you get
Put it on me baby give me
teacher.
You die by the rhymes and the streets'll eat you.
The words are a gift we will never flaunt.
That's why we're gonna get everything we want.
Just
do
Ok you want me to do the intro alright
Parental discretion is advised for the moment
While I'm getting candid now understand it
Ain't too
I wanna get next to you.
I said I'm gonna get close to you.
You wouldn't want me have to hurt you, too.
Hurt you, too.
I know you want what's on my
Do you really know me?
If you don't then shut the fuck up please
Or do you understand me?
If you do, you wouldn't be this mean at least
Think I am
want to be,
You're gonna have to learn pimpology.
Pimpology, a pimp's profession.
Can't be effected by the Great Depression.
So if you want to be
to suck a dick
Motherfucker ducked, what the fuck, son of a bitch
Take away my gun, I'm gonna tuck some other shit
Can't tell me shit about the tricks
rapper about to blow
But his album came, and it was not good
I think it went lead or double copper-wood
So the silly little fans, they were misled
By
to suck a dick
Motherfucker ducked, what the fuck, son of a bitch
Take away my gun, I'm gonna tuck some other shit
Can't tell me shit about the tricks
to trick
Equipped with game so we bang with this thuggish shit
I see you tryin' to hide, hopin' that nobody don't notice
You must always remember
You're
Sometimes I think about it
And my poor heart wants to die about it
Woooooo about the sweet sweet love I lost
And the way I got double crossed
By
Melodically and sonically the best and
Ironically was choir boy MVP
You can't tempt me i used to get head by the
Pews during father franks hour-long homilies
to God all I fear
Is Allah so why try me?
Cross me get crucified, why would I lie akhi?
You look like the Predator by prey
(pray) on God akhi
They say if
really that simple shit get harder by the week
I’m keeping at it coz I wanna see me eat, dawg.
Cop me a new crib, dawg.
Get my momma rich , dawg.
She ain’t
baby (nasty)
Oh, the cooties (it's the movie, oh, no)
They comin' to get me, runnin' (runnin')
Touched by the unloyal
Trust, I had to shower for
the trick
Is you only see the former on my IG pic
And I'm sick to my stomach
Cause they want the same illusion in my lyrics
Hence the emphasis on my
profession.
Can't be effected by the Great Depression.
So if you want to be giant sized,
Come to my school. Get pimp-matized.
In your school, what do they
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