Lyrics:
the beat back for your boy
I'm bout to cuss all night
Dirty palabras
Spit by the Chupacabra
Walk the halls in my draws
Holdin the candelabra
Like your
I been a
Soulja Boy
Yup in my
White T
Get a stain
Off in that bitch
I Buy a new pack
Next week
No Gucci Mane
But the lemonade
Make a Nigga squeeze
track, bring it back, tell me what you
Think about that
Boys trynna holla, but I ain't having that
You better have game, you better come correct
Ya
the best, nigga, tell me who is better then?
I rock Truey, G-Star and the Vetements
They done fucked up, lames bring Berettas in
Walked in with pistolas
I
tell me can you bring it back
This the type of beat to make you bounce like rubber
That boy b frank yea he a bad motherfucker
Always talk cash cause I
Boy you just bitch
And I'm sick
Of dat lil shit
You keep tryna kick
Real shit
Circle full g's
You could never fit
But I'm glad datchu back to rappin
Nigga slidin' (Helly, I'm fuckin' with you)
And I'm ridin' with 'em
(Helluva made this beat, baby)
I used to get the pack when I was young (Me
time take her dough
oh, you better watch your back to man
cause there's a lot of bitchs in the world wit much game
lession two
watch dat hoe, don't trust
funk up the beat, like body odor
Peace all I need, I thought I told ya
Speak what I mean like Pac to Soulja
Boy, what a mess. It's time to go bruh
Turn it up! Bring the noise!
Hey yo, Chuck, they're illin', we chillin'
Yo, PE in the house, top billing
Yo, Chuck, show 'em what you can do, boy
bout he ain't did shit
(But Look)
Lotta yall say you don't like me
Tell em in the back wanna fight me
Never bring a knife to a gunfight
Never bring
comin
Then bring it back, with another stack, of raps to blow your back out
How many of why'all want to go for yours I keep my dogs in the crackhouse
Take what you want, tie they ass up
Just don't, get, no, blood on the dope
Just don't, get, no, blood on the dope
Bring it back all white, don't get
/
Thought I seen durk perk You should seen what put on his shirt /
308 dez bih brust /Fuck it ima go Frist /
Tidy due do nigga nigga worse /Tell dat
Mi tell mi madda Nuh worry
Mi tell mi madda Nuh worry
Mi tell mi madda Nuh worry she say dat neva in it
She neva think it, for a second Much less
along the way
A few times, but made it back
Treat these beats like my diary
Lay my heart when I lay a track
Hoping someone can relate
When they play my
Post up by the store give em a whiff and tell em shop with me
I barely ever worked a job but boy I sold a lot of weed
Seven hundred profit twenty bows
the fuck must I give it
And tell me again why the fuck is you sitting
You niggas pee-on pee-ons
And I bring the corner back, corner back, nigga jus like
Of that one song
The way it got me feelin
By lil duval Tom g and kammilion
Gon and make dat ass clap
Drop it Drop it to the flo
Do the city boi wit it
Bring
On a power trip, drive by hit that spray Ain't Ciara nigga ima have to rustle Future
Bitch we stick talk ain't no fucking Kama Sutra
Boss Ross hit em with dat
big brother got Shiro's mum
He ain't lettin' her go free until she brings her son
Shiro's got the words, now Shiro's coming back
He's rushing
check dat back man...come on man come with dat cash man... (tires screeching) Aye yo who is dat? Aye law yo check dat back man check dat back EARLY ]
And that shit gon' pop just like that nigga that was never 'round
Damn, bout to drop, gas em up, thick exhaust
Young T, came quick, hard to beat, dick is
at
Yeah, do dat
Watching from a distance I love the way you move dat
Yeah, do dat
Them other girls they ain't in your world tell 'em too bad
Do Dat
Give me
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