Lyrics:
gang, aka them Ladder boys, we back
We back i ain't playin
I said i don't make it rain, I ain't rich
I ain't got a milli
I ain't trynna chase a bitch
tried to boo ya
Label shoot ya, stressed out with brain tumors
My gat claps, fifty percent of the wack
Take it back to real rap, Krylons wit' the fat
The style
of the rap makes your hands clap Take care sucker 'cause the lines
are
strapped They mean business no time for play If you bite a line they
Friday
(Niggas ain`t got shit to do)
(So we gon` get fucked up)
Who dat?
[Verse 1]
Bert and Hussein, back to back now that`s flammable
Smokin` ya
can goo google me like Project Pat
My salary in cash look like ten tons of celery
And ima cash out till' the fat lady sings a melody
I was that kid that
my way back
And
Ima clap niggas that who you step with
Daayum
I might done backed bitches that you done slept with
OG big smoke don't make me tap into
Fresh off the table wit a shap like delicious
A1 credit and she mind her business
When she throw dat ass back
She gone made dat ass clap
I throw
your discography
Upwards to infinity
We make music to fly to
Taking it back if we dissed you
Oh you want more?
Hahahaaa
Special kind of fool
This is not
high
Got a couple friends who got hit with a drive by
At the ball courts throwing lobs pressing Y Y
Dunk in that water like we make that fucking tie dye
descended down from Vanna White
Life's fast, take time to smell the roses, Bama life
Listen to my old shit, pat myself on the back, damn I'm nice
By
listen
Well, you stupid fuck, look at you now (Y'all already know!)
(For real, y'all, back behind the wall again) (yeah, you know what it is)
(You know
Gram
Make dat ass go clap clap show out for your fans
Make dat shit look easy love a woman who can please me
Long as you aint super needy spread dis
dat shit before why you mad again
Niggas move and don’t clap back
Woke up in da room heard a boom ratta tat tat
Derro and dooda my ace like black jack
thick
Cute lil bitch from the burbs
She hopped up in the benz sayin she like the Way I swerve
And she said that pussy real sweet like a nerd
Make dat
they flap, they move mountains
I leap on your back, like a wild fucking monkey
Eyes are blood shot read, with a growling tummy
Beat your fucking back
mind
I'm like damn
First she blocked me
Now she throwing pussy for the gram
Tryna receive attention
Bitch you don't know who I am
I was raised by project
Whodemarompwit
Gal dem dem a bubble up
Dance floor them a fuck it up
Baddies make Maddies shrug it up
Dat gal dere make me waan hug it up
Tight hole
Clifton get a back pack
With a fat back give give her ass a little slap slap
Hit that lil bitch from the back back with my hat back
Now applaud give her
deceivable
Believe it's true
When you say you clap gats
That's unbelievable
No one believing you, you never shot shit
I'll pop and make you shit on yourself
a fact I max
Subtract the whack, now divide the stacks
Multiplied by the feel of the real, and I'm back
And my DAT contains the masters, so I maintain
on to da bro
Why you keep sending messages with audio
Baby I don't want talk you can't see dat tho
Maybe I should just bring ya friend to my show
Make her
the punk pussy motherfucker who did it"
Then make them pay, no time to delay
Check out the [?] from around the way"
My boys got back saying "yeah he's
talkin. Smack the taste out that
The baseball bat's an option. Maybe he gon clap
Back to back. Stage set. Places yo bets. Amazing, yet
The world turns.
that
The baseball bat's an option
Maybe he gon' clap
Back to back
Stage set
Places yo bets
Amazing, yet
The world turn
Figure the rest.
Hear no evil, see
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