Lyrics:
Old-school cars be trailblazin' like Portland
The girls are the best like Travis with fat asses
I call 'em "gimme girls," they always tell me I can have it
Presidential, maybe I should run
Still get 'em by the ton, sixty-five three times a month
Bag, what you doin'? Baggin', baggin'
2020 McLaren, Moe got me
Quarters
Niggas tried to kill me, and I fed they wife and they daughters
Blazed the weed, draped they seeds, gave 'em cash
Pass the fame and let the game
tonight (let's go)
Skepta, I'm that guy
And I'm D-I-D-D-Y
Boy Better Know 'til I die
And you can't see me, I'm way too fly (uh-huh)
Chicks stop
momma
I got a new groove boy, I move with the llama
Nigga hop out the Fisker, Byrd gang militia
Scooped by Melissa
I'm in the kitchen, remix with Smitty
use to go with
But you can tell em both that it's yo dick
I bet (They don't know)
That you don't even speak when you see me in the streets
But you still
did to go to jail, don't do that shit again
Bitch I'm screamin' fuck you, never change, thuggin' to the end
I got a question, tell me what these
Kapernick with 2Pac's anatomy
I got 'em mad at me
'Cause I freed kids from the trap
And put morals over salary
But they would rather me lie the
Way they lied
gave me shit I plotted way to get it
Should've thought outside the box cause them plans got me convicted
Mr Know It All Couldn't tell me shit I wouldn't
I take your bitch and undress her
Walk through the door see my
Gun on the dresser (ugh)
You know I come from the gutter, boy
Got a nina on me, she'll
Now break his legs, arms, neck (yea).
[Chorus]
(Soulja boy tell em)
(S.O.D. money gang entertainment)
(I present to you the show stoppas)
(When
Iggy
Who you think I give a fuck about, an enemy?
Think I give a fuck about the industry?
Pussy ass nigga better Google me
Boy, I really made a million
her left and got her right
Dranking Hennessy
I'm in this B
And cranking Soulja boy
Hit a Nigga square in the mouth
And air it out if he get hype
Single
came to shake the town
Yeah, ya boy's internationally known
But I'm from the hood, got a pocket full of stones (stones)
I used to cop Rob Base, turn
came to shake the town
Yeah, ya boy's internationally known
But I'm from the hood, got a pocket full of stones (stones)
I used to cop Rob Base, turn
Royce and I pop shit (pop shit)
I'm a dope boy with that car trip (yeah)
I came in the game, I had crack on me (I had crack on me)
Got BAPE on my back
we really charged up
Got more hoes on me than a Starbucks
Big chop, it'll blow yo car up
Ball like I hoop, tell the opps guard up
Bro jam three times,
a mystery
I always got a pretty bitch with me
My bitch'll be like, "Come and get with me
Pretty please, I need some dick in me"
I get bad hoes and you
Get
I go crazy at my show
Don't dress pretty at my show human bodies will be in clash
You want your boy to be like me
You hope your child got part of me
bitchBallin! Soulja Boy Up In Da Buildin
Throw Some D's On That Bitch
I Just Got My Report Card
Throw Some D's On That Bitch
I Just Got My Report Card
Throw
got
Dope and the E boy I'mma G
Boy I'mma I'mma I'mma G boy
I'mma G boy I'mma I'mma I'mma G boy
I'mma G boy get smoke by P boy coke by
The key boy got
come walk by my side (my hood, oh)
They don't want me to shine, women's group, my god (shine, god)
Now don't get it twisted, I do support 'em, but why
it and glock and um cocking it gettin hot by da minute.
Soulja boy tell em I?m all about cheddar folk icey
new chevy same color as antelope.
I?m sick
tell myself, "You wrong, boy" (fuck 'em)
Twenty rich niggas with me, nigga, we the mob (ayy)
Gangsta shit, I'll front you somethin', nigga, come get
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