Lyrics:
Street
I'll show you how the stocks work
"I tote guns, I make number runs
I, I tote guns, I, I tote guns
I, I tote guns, I make number runs
I, I tote
no wheels
Custom theater custom kitty woodgrain custom everything
What's that on the seat, custom mustard stain
Now let's go hit the mall, yo all
they love horn
These kicks from overseas, like the letter B, yo swag born
Run the water, grab the pot, straight drop that work, work
Two bitches, no
concealing the shit
4 gun cases, I'm still with the shit
Backlit, wood wheel when I whip
Got her right up on my lap, that's a real nigga risk
And then feel
rollin' witchu
You never got a person hit i spray the guns
Don't play the drums but know
How to work wit' sticks
Bitch you not a thug and you not
The plug
the work so you know that I'm gonna get it
Lookin' like God so you know that it's custom fitted
Drivin' down Manatee,
Top open up like a canopy
You know
Top shelf exotic only when I hit the dip
Pull up to the scene rocking custom drip
Niggas copy the wave tryna jump ship
Hoes running they mouth need
guns through
The sun roof of a focus
Just a batmanfor twofacedheads joker
Im lively likely to smoke them herbs no ivy
Flow so icy they call me mr freeze
on the way up I'm watching 'em fluctuating
In love with the junk your saying
The talk made the bed your laying
Don't come 'less guns are blazing
That function
the deal with Jay
I got my first number one and you was on the run with me
Never want to leave the country if I can't take my gun with me
You weren't with
The customs took work
The soldiers put work in
On any of the motherfuckers who fucked up good work
Bosses tell 'em: 'Good work'
That's just how the hood
[Sticky Fingaz]
Twas the night before twistmas
And all through the house
We had guns and money around
Layin' on the couch
Was dressed with black
have a good amount of
Years for me to get
Prepared and to work towards my
Vision and make sure that
It's getting built and assembled the right
Way before
an alarm, the target got hit in the forearm
Duck behind the car, switch hands, reloaded the cannon
And came back blasting that bitch like O-Dog
Wild gun
Custom made tailor fit in case you wanna know
Mothafuckers try to play me like I'm not who I am
Don't be mad because I work in them Jordan's I stand
That's
Where them eight point bucks
And those custom deluxe trucks are still a-runnin' round
There's a good Lord up above where I'm from
And there's boots
rifles, and little derringers that fix
LAPD can't see me, I work with Muslim beanie
Indian transporter, machine guns across the border
the work worth?
How much getting murk worth?
Sometimes I get high and I wonder if church works
As I changed the first verse and the kirk first
Gonna ask
high finna roll up some Tree
All of that cash that i blew made it Back yesterday
Moving that work and im making These trades
Im getting new drugs so im
said his bitch flushed the work
Time to do some plumbin'
Gotta love the way we comin' though
We keep it comin'
Wolves never cry wolf and you
Could feed
through customs, they
Always look back at me and
They say, "Come on, Frank
Tell us the truth what are you really
ON? I mean, you can't possibly expect us
the front is the trunk, that's the custom carrier
Let's play a game, I hand you a king of diamonds
The hand is faster than the eye, check in your pocket
I
rock then I work
All these Ks but I still wouldn't have joined the navy
I remember that shoot out in my red Benz had to duck low
The bullet almost
happy bring you enemies
I'm wordplay Tre I put my faith into the Trinity
He ain't buy the gun for nothin
He keep it on him like identity... Woah
I'm up
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