Lyrics:
He payed me on on 4th street
Said make me afford three
Wait, whatever times four, please
But guess I'm late
Whatever the lord means
Windows tinned
out my friend
Zen out my friend
Well alright
Back seat of the Uber feelin' like film bloopers
Reaching the end and self medicating from the humor
Time
the tip
Two months from now get a taste of the dish
just some waste from the dip
by my waste like the blick
Food that I'm feeding this year my nigga
is
baby grown
But she hate when I stay out late
You take yo girl to get a 4 for 4
I take her to eat steak
Nigga happy he just bought some shoes
I'm tryna
expect ye's all to back us to the hilt.
And if St. Peter at his gate were to ask ye why yer late,
Why you'd tell him that ye had to get a ship built.
We
cheeks clap
Right hook on him, he need a map
Smokin this green call it Peter Pan
Stole your thot, she callin me her man
Take a moment and pop my addy
Hit
my fears
I'm not even, even breathing
Hold it in hoping one day this will get easy
Inner demons
Try to eat me
From the inside out till I am left
Silkk, Slim, P
It's like, we out the game
(What's up Soulja Slim?)
Keep from callin' us
It's like we're never gonna be
(Master P in there, boy)
from Far Rock hoppin'
Over the turnstile
To set up shop up top by the Jamaican spot
My joints have been a
Bop, from vinyl, cassettes, cDs and streams
being controlled by a string
The only thing keeping their feet planted to the green
We are the sewn seed
Sweating for cash that can't buy back the time it
to the valley what you think fo
[4] - From Texas to Cali we get our ye from the valley
We be hustlin on blocks moving in and out the alley
We call it medicine
country swine
4-0-5, ya know that mine
2-5-6, country Bama
Rowdy boys up out the slammer
Redneck, watch yo' mouth
This shit here is there South
From
I'm chasing green and the fucking dream
To go out with a bang being called by Mike Breen
I hate to break the news but you're cut from the team
I'm
lenier (come here).
I'm on my P's and my Q's stones green to the blue 23's when I cruise.
Feel my calf muscle on my brake pedal ain't another younging
screened
Just well schemed
I'm trying to have wealth for
My well being by 18 pockets healthy green
What the fuck is 12 beans?
I need the cake and cream
started blackin' out
Pulled the Mac-10 out, stuck it in her face
Shut ya yakkin' mouth,
'fore I blow the brain from out the back ya scalp
Drug her by
Chevy's
Seven-duece, seven-trey, seven-four, seven-five
M-I-A-M-I till I die, 3-0-5!
Candy paint and leather, they don't fuck wit nothing but dubs
We gon take it from the bottom (M-I-A-M-I to Houston!!)
H-town! Pitbull, Bun B..
My dogg Demi, keep ya head up, I gotchu, I promise!
All my
We gon' take it from the bottom
(M I A M I to Houston)
H-town, Pitbull, Bun B
My dogg Demi, keep ya head up, I gotchu
I promise all my chicos, I
the Reaper
Must Think Dat I’m Dum
I Can get it 4 Cheaper
4 or Mo
Go in My 2 liter
Rockout da show
Family Guy like I’m Peter
Die bout Respect
Bitch I
Drink it fast, make it last, till you know it ain't no mo'
Run outta doe, slap the hoe,
get the do' and go back to that liquor sto'
[Chorus - repeat 4
3-1-4
Call the cops
(why?) I see a robbery in progress
Lunatics about to steal the show
(Where you from?) from the S T-L, M-O, 3-1-4
I rip grass
you from nigga
Iran, Pakistan or Lebanon? Never mind
I don't give a shit you fucking immigrant
I hope you green card get
Revoked you fuckin' degenerate
I'm a get my bum rushed
By some fucking faggots who just wanna pick on a fucking runt
Stand by homos till I pull out a fucking gun
And then you'll run
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