Lyrics:
Grand for the jeans
A couple hundred for the tee
People die by the gun
I'mma live for the cheese
Money boys is the mob
And everybody with me
Living life
My one-liners make bitches relapse
Got two timers who keep with the stats
Sedi you're better than that leaving instrumentals all white
Macadeli
Dealing with new shit
Complicated
Take it to the crew shit
Fuck we separated
Out the coupe bitch
I’m so undercover
Drop the roof bitch
I don’t talk
pen that shit
If its talking bout
Connecting all the dots
All the spots raided
Who ever called the cops hated
Must of lost em
I forgive way too often
socks
Banksy bitches, Basquiat
I ran through that buck fifty Live Nation fronted me
They workin' on another deal, they talkin' two hundred fifty
I'm
with my crew know we lighting a few
we about explode like we lighted a fuse
I'm a fiend for 16s instrumental abuse
I went from blues clues to being well
Saw my man layin' dead on the floor, kid I swore
That our crew will live forever, I guess I was wrong
No, until we meet again,hold ya head and stay
is highly addictive
Especially when you're used to having money to live with
I thought step back look at my life as a whole
Ain't no love it seems
now
Cleveland, see town, nigga that we put em on tha map
Them take you ah journey ride, now they doin 2 by my side
We be comin, lemme show you what's
else by me mane
I tell em float on and go on to the ozone
Im so gone, my blunt like a pole long
I prolong, and hold on
To it like a trombone, I'm so
Never find me with another crew
Every time we give ‘em somethin’ new
Aww yeah (oh yeah, oh yeah, okay!)
Catch ‘em callin’ me the chosen one (What?!)
I
type of beast up in this bitch someone hand me a tusk
Designer on my toes stepping somebody give em a buck
Flexing on that 2 bands I been touched I do
the way)
I'm the only way
We can fornicate
Ah, pimping and posing
Look what I drove in, ah
Having these hoes and I know that I'm chosen, ah
I live by
you
But shoes on your feet
Rule two
Read Matthew ten
It's the great commission
Try not to sin
Rule three
Take twenty bucks
And have fun
Don't come back
Look, look
These niggas lied to me way back
Said this was where my buck stop
Ridin' right by in my fly shit
These niggas still at that bus stop
he lost Em
A wood full of pissy P a nigga, coughin
Check me out, know that we good for that stalkin
Work It' with two hands, if He fall, we gon' hawk
grew up listening to Guwop
He would live past 3 shots 2 shots
They be Burning buildings down for a new lot
Murder children on the street by the new
all week
Working harder than the rest for a piece
Live forever ain’t no resting in peace
I told the champ that I would never lose
It’s not just who you
(Think we found a loophole)
A hunnid shottas, two oppas, I bet these Glock I pop 'em (I bet I do)
A hunnid shottas, two oppas, I bet these Glock I
nothin
If you ain't inflating my funds what the fuck we discussing
I always keep it two fin ball my nigga a hundred
Yall like it I love it
I get my cake
breaker
Large tray full of shots like a bar waiter
Kamehameha, bar layer after bar layer
The chicken getting plucked if I pick 'em
I'm a guitar player like
three
Come with my first diddy-deed
[ Brother J ]
1-2, 1-2
Hm... F.T.P., F.T.P.
Same old gee with the same strategy
See a [edited] em on down
it, gives a (uff) I'm a flaunt it
That (haaaa) got niggas thinkin I'm hunted, the bumbell
[Chorus] X 2
[Tech N9ne] (Yukmouth)
Yeah (Live and direct)
a remix
Kicking flavor in ya ear its the 36 Oooo
Called up the crew cause the beat was bumping
And they rolled up like i had beef or something
Rondell is
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