Lyrics:
these lil niggas be murking niggas
Project baby, no father figure
Only 15 and he a father nigga
Spend all day tryna rob a nigga
20 lil jits and they
Bahdi-by-by
Get it.. right, nigga
They all know Lil' Weezy ride at.. night, nigga
I dip low, and I'm strapped up.. tight, nigga
Duct tape your momma,
Oh yeah, I got the perfect song for the kids to sing
And all my people that's
Drug dealin' just to get by
Stackin' money 'til it get sky high
turned me to a fucking man (21)
Living by the code, I don't talk to police (never)
Stand up when I'm pissing, can't no nigga ho me (pussy)
Rapping like
to me?
Twenty Four Seven, stay here with me
Twenty Four Seven, throw away the key
Twenty Four Seven, I don't wanna be free
You get by if you kiss
I'm gonna get my 32-20, my baby she ridin' around in a
V8 Ford
Lord, I'm gonna get my 32-20, my little girl ridin'
Around in a V8 Ford
Well, you
one funny mothafucka
A true comedian, you gotta love him, you gotta trust him
I might be buggin', infomercials and no sleep
Introverted by my
Oh, really? Yeah
Oh, really? Yeah (racks)
I'm scared to break the top (why?)
I'm scared to make a mess because I'm watched by the cops (fuck
If I'm gonna rob, I'ma rob all night (yeah)
If I'm lookin' for somethin' it's probably a fight (yeah)
If I'm gonna fuck bitches then they better be
thought I was a ho or somethin', that's what he get for thinkin' (ho)
Better off tryna rob a bank or somethin', I call that wishful thinkin' (well, damn)
On those who perpetrate with bootleg tapes
Certain scams I can't relate
Now their pocket wait's my pocket-weight
Klept the great, it gets through thick
Fuck the Cuban, they callin' to get the tennis back
Already sold it, ain't no gettin' it back, ah
I could teach you how to rob a rapper
I could
that's my pack money
Look I ain't got no record deal so no it ain't no rap money
You see the stack in my jeans, I can't fit no rubber band
twenty
And a Cash Money medallion with 20
Diamonds in each letter son so peeps this
Nigga a got I million dollars worth
Of cars all on chrome can
You compete wit'
him
DMX wanna get down, well, you tell, homie
I'm on that Treach shit, I do my dirt all by my lonely
I should rob Clue, man, his shit did well
I
that's coming to the end
Caught him slippin', at Simons he tried to get a fit'
It's either
Or baby boy, you can meet the lord
I pray we meet again,
here for hanging
I feel like giving it up
Cause I'm a young nigga living it up
Me and Snoop ain't give a fuck
20 minutes to get your see-walk
Is this just an illusion
That I made inside my head to get me by?
Twenty years in debt
Twenty years in the government
Twenty years can never get
the one to play with
Gobble up this dick
I hit the door I can't stay
Them niggas lyin' right?
Yeah, you know that they ain't finna spray shit
Rob
millionaire, Hot Boy, Lil' Turk
Bling blinging everyday, plus I got work (bling)
Nigga like me stay in the cut twenty-four seven
Steady stacking my ends
that nigga ain't shit five
They knowin' that nigga had lil' four rob his best friend, slime
Haha, they say he out here on that shit now
I said I had
There are twenty-three hours that I can get by
But the twenty-fourth hour is the one when I cry
I pray that it won't come, but it comes anyhow
(oh)
Or on South Beach (oh) in my wife B
VVS studded, you can tell when they cut it
You see my grandmama hate it, but my lil' mama love it
'Cause
Take a left here boy, take it slow
Don't get distracted by that radio
I just rolled my eyes and I said, "Daddy, I know
I'm fifteen, I ain't green
_1895-6.jpg/300px-Lautrec_la_troupe_de_mlle_eglantine_(poster)_1895-6.jpg "Can Can")
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