Lyrics:
Two young niggas going too brazy
Two bad bitches, I be double datin'
Two mad niggas sayin', fuck you, pay me
Two houses, I be going too brazy
Two
(Boy)
Acting though will only show the lack of confidence within yourself (Boy)
Don't know how to repair the damage done to me by your words again (Boy
and the guap
Got moola and the guap
I got what need boy ya want it
That nigga price high, mine cheap so they love it
Do it big shake them off and these
draps sont les leaders tombés sous les balles
Me saoulez pas moi j'ai quelques albums sous le bras
C'est de la soul en rap pour bad boys et scélérats
say what, say what?
I say what, say what? (My band is bigger than yours)
Too bad, I got your beans in my bag (aha)
You stuck-up sucker, Korny
say what, say what?
I say what, say what? (My band is bigger than yours)
Too bad, I got your beans in my bag (aha)
You stuck-up sucker, Korny
make men into boys
I destroy your whole family tree
Chop it down
Hip-hop is longer now in this repertoire
Get your wardrobe torn out your closet
Walls
on y’all mouth like it’s lip gloss.
Mama scared it was just us.
Took us a year just to catch up.
Talking s**t you done messed up.
P***y boy better vest up.
Wusup! to my nigga Kel, Third Ward is the motherfuckin' house
Mac Melph Calio, R.I.P. Pimp Daddy, Kilo ya with me, wusup Bryce hahahaha
Pop 'Em
[Fred] Yeah. This beat here was created in the Hamptons
[Chop] Uughhh!
[Fred] And dropped in Manhattan
[Background:] Hey-o, Hey-o
[Chop] Bad Boy's
Cdubthaplug
Who?
I'm dumb cdub
I go fuckin stupid
Pull up with troops
We shootin like cupid
Boy got shot (pah)
He wounded
Open yo eyes. I can't
and seek
I'm a g, i can get a bad b from a tweet
Was the boy, baby girl but now i turned into the man
I'ma turn every hater, to a fan
They gon hear my song
out, one by one
This the sound of a boy that was broke, and wasn't known
All alone, got 3-4 friends, but on his own
Never P'd, I played out hard in
bitches that's good
Bitches that's bad
You can hate or congratulate
Either still don't give a fuck
It's niggas that's real
Niggas that's fake
You can hate
friend is a tree, and in his
spare time he's a stockbroker. Gervaise Brook-Hampster (M.P.) is in
the Guards, and his father uses him as a wastepaper
an she'll let me all in her jeans
I'll Fucc a bitch throat and make that hoe swallow my seed
Cause I got bad hoes i Fucc each day of the week
Texas boy pimpin
I see is red boy
They hanging on by a thread boy
For this paper ima boutta shred niggas
On my baby remember when I fed niggas
They shitted on me like
tush in it
That bit got kush in it
Aye aye aye
P I been pushing it
Crack I been cooking it
Running from twelve in this bitch boy i'm booking it
I'm
Atleast that shit sounds fair
They said I'm a bad influence
Used to be the right kid
Used to be an alter boy in the church
Wanted be a high priest
Maybe
was good, Max, that's my boy
I'm just speaking facts, you bring us joy,
Thank God for this album, he's the best
Gosh darn it, Max, I'm so impressed
I was on the roads tryna double up, home now I wanna see my p's just triple
Had to run a boy down in my Air Force, pissed, 'cause now they got
We shine bright like the stars
Moving in fancy cars
Pulling all of these broads
Acting bad on these boyz
Pushin' we keep it pushin'
Pushin' we keep
take mi fi clown
One bad boy mi have your town locked down
You see the sawn off shotty and mi MP5
M-Fifteen you see mi one Browning
Have the Remington
LuhCam
LuhTaee
Aye
Yea
LuhCam
I'm just tryna get richer & richer
Aye
I'm not a player I just fuck a lot
Got a bad bitch & you know she suck a lot
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