Lyrics:
, check, check, check
So all my boss ladies stand up
And if you makin' that paper then put your hands up
Shake what your mama gave you, girl
Tonight's
Chyeah, cut me up, man
Cut me up in the phones, yeah
That's right
Chyeah
Chyeah
Uh-oh
Uh-oh
I got the Birdman in my presence, so you know it's
lil' white kid shot up a school again (Crazy)
These shootings be gettin' committed by white people
So why the fuck police still shootin' up my people?
check him out, check him out, check him out
With the beat I'm gonna rock the house
When you hear my golden voice, you know it's me
The poetical,
There's an intruder in my house
He cut my phone line, can't dial out (shit)
I scream for police, but I doubt
They're gonna hear me when I shout
[JE]
JE why'all
why'all know, yeah, yeah check this out
(Cut something, cut something)
We gonna let you in on a little Southern lingo
(Cut
have no respect
I want to own my check aye
And I'm not talking about the blue check
Who is next aye
I cut them off and never see them again
My girl is
Yo, so let's get the mic burned, open it up
Yes I, check it out
It's like, you listen to the musician
Umbilical mic, my syllable strikes ya vision
I
Got in the club with my strap
I ain't get checked by security
Touched my first $10
000 and I ain't even hit puberty
I don't even fuckin' juug no more
Presi on my arm shit cost me a car
Step into the building she like he a star
Couple of bad bitches we might just menage
Maybe quadruplet just to check
Trey Stax
Stick em up Stax
Yea ummm
Can't tell you what I'm finna be
But I'm from Hyde Park ten a key
I mastermind this industry
Now cut the check
a a doll (blow it up), high like I'm flyin' a kite (boom)
I feel like I'm outta sight (sight), I want you by my side (come here)
Cut on me like a knife
Money check, on me. Phone check, on me
Heater check, where my reefer at; can't shake it off, it's on me
Got designer all on me, Versace cologning
And this I swear, here in Hell, we don't play fair
Cross the line and my nine'll be bringin' you here, motherfuckers
Check it out y'all
Check it out,
keep the flows in check
The Raw Dice rise like a creature from out the swamp
With my blood-thirsty clergy that's on the hunt for conk
Who pumps your
the support
& we gone be rockin man check out tyga projects coming
out my project we gon get it poppin 4 da streets like
I always say & hum my number ones
There's an intruder in my house
He cut my phone line, can't dial out (shit)
I scream for police, but I doubt
They're gonna hear me when I shout
pronto (woo)
Stuffing the check in the console
Then throw the Lambo' in launch mode (hmm)
Release the things that'll keep me back (yeah)
Cut off my
niggas did that
Any nigga that shot at my bros
I swear to god niggas shot back
Yeah shout that boy quez
Yeah he trap by the store
What a nigga been through
Surrounded by them demons, I'm so isolated
Surrounded by them demons, I'm so isolated
Thumbin through the check, thumbin through the check
Boy put down that
in the cut
Seven bitches, Eight bitches, Nine bitches in the cut
Ten bitches cause you know that we don't really give a fuck
Pardon my language
I
Ready for the- (uh)
Ready for the breakdown
(Ch-ch-check, check it out) Uh
Miss Afro Puffs, I step up on the cut
It's like ten-hut when I struts my
Aite bet
Go and tell these rappers better, show some respect
Someone tell these fucking labels, cut me a check
Someone let these niggas know that we
my mind right
(Leave that ho alone to get my mind right)
I had to come up on a check to get my mind right
(Come up on a check to get my mind right)
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