Lyrics:
lackin’
Pistol packin’, we gon’ hit between his arms wit’ a hammer
Bakin’ soda, my lil’ soulja, knock ‘em over, get ‘em right
Late at night we pop out, we
(Spread)
Spread (Spread)
(Dazi)
Aye,
Soulja, no boy
Rarri's, them toys
Foreigns, she gorgeous
Money, of course
Bust down my wrist I seen water, no flood
All
Now break his legs, arms, neck (yea).
[Chorus]
(Soulja boy tell em)
(S.O.D. money gang entertainment)
(I present to you the show stoppas)
(When
the safe ya'll
Cappin more than Soulja Boy if was his day job
A nigga be rappin with passion
A horrid assassin I leave the beats ravaged
Than eat like
youngin' in my other room, fuckin up my sheets
She tell 'em boy don't grab my hair because you're fuckin up my weave
I got a hundred bottles Ciroc boy
All
and this my year
Na this my mellineum i got em
Soulja Boy Tell Em' That the name on my colladids
i sit back if a nigga disrespect
then he diseased RIP
rest
hand
Go and get me some, break 'em off with my pump
I gots to come through and I gots to get dumb
Boys steady swerving
Picking 'em up at Sterling
Gots
hand
Go and get me some, break 'em off with my pump
I gots to come through and I gots to get dumb
Boys steady swerving
Picking 'em up at Sterling
Gots
like my Netflix loaded
(Get em')
Telling your boss brick city boys is fire
Never mind
Half of y'all be talking through the wire
Media slandered me
So
they ass so much, we dig 'em up and tell 'em, "Die again"
I can hit the club all by myself long as the strap is in
Niggas told me, all the rappers
IM JUST INTOXICATED BY YOU/
MY DICK COULD PLAY WALDO BUT LET IT FIND YOU/
AND LET IT HIDE IN A WARM WET CAVE /
AND I WANA SCORE THE HOME RUN LIKE ITS
a fetus
Na I don't need your rap bars on my remix
Turn Soulja Boy tell ’em
Into Soulja Boy teethless
Ask about the kid, JID, older boys preaching
Teaching
with
She call me Superman, I'm on my Soulja shit (you)
Boss Dogg, get 'em, I sick 'em and take 'em home
West Coast bitch, I'm on my fuckin' throne
with
She call me Superman, I'm on my Soulja shit (you)
Boss Dogg, get 'em, I sick 'em and take 'em home
West Coast bitch, I'm on my fuckin' throne
just tell me, I'll make em' true
Business I'm make em' just plan it boo
Cause my goal for you is to make you whole
Make your life complete, make em' nice
you Kobe
Rest in power singletary I too was dat ill lil boy in the hood afraid to bury my
Demons but now they out huh I gotta face Christ matter
down the road
Right by the ocean
I got bitches (swag) on my toes (Dre)
(Pretty boy swag) Pretty boy swagging on
You fucking hoes (I do this)
This one for
Surrounded by mummified bodies and shit
Cemeteries errwhere
All in my county
I be sippin on it
Brain be gone
But it's like everything aight
Hangin
speed under my driver seat diamonds spinnin
Like my head after I dicoptined lucky I don't spend the rent
Tell them folks to cut a check likes to get floss
feelin' paranoid
Tell my mom I got a job but I'm sellin' boy
I need the big bad Brabus with the roof rack
I need the big bad Brabus with the roof rack
Just
Cause the streets aint where it is, foreal
(Rxnel Verse I)
Face gated I aint gotta tell ‘em
Who I is
Drive-by’s, look
We aint catching Ubers here
Aye…
youngin' in my other room, fuckin up my sheets
She tell 'em boy don't grab my hair because you're fuckin up my weave
I got a hundred bottles Ciroc boy
All
Soulja Boy Tell 'Em hopped up out the bed turn my swag on
Took a look in the mirror said what's up
Yeah I'm getting money oh
Hopped up out
city
Bitch, I never ran my mouth
City boy shit, yeah baby, I'm a soulja
Got the block hot now we all going global
It's that city boy
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