Lyrics:
make big bucks servin' up punk ducks
By the pound, I got the sound
I never been checked, I only get wrecked
I kick the willy drag, let my pants sag
Don't
I come up hard baby, but now I'm cool
I didn't make it sugar, playin' by the rules
I come up hard baby, but now I'm fine
I'm checkin' trouble
Or speed up just because they ask
Demand what you deserve never motivated by cash
Remain true cause 'what's real?'
Never let ya guard down cause backin'
bout that (yeah)
Driftin', Liftin', Swiftin', coastin', testaroastin'
But the wheels won't stop 200 (errrr) on the highway fresh
Up off the block he's
the good life's supposed to be
So give it up because it didn't come by luck
'Cause I could give a shit [Incomprehensible]
Gimme that bomb, gimme that
refuse to stop
Get sweated by them sell out cops
And I wink 'cause I pin the opposition
I'm on a mission to preach and teach to reach
So listen up
Sean Paul:
This one is for all the sexy ladies
Yeah man
Pack it up now, buck it up now, pack it up now, buck it up yo
Shaggy:
Sexy, Sean Paul do
really rap money
Twenty for a hoe and that's really trap money
B.A.
Blue lights flashin, checkin out my mansion
Gangster so flashy, Louis Vuitton
I come up hard baby, but now I'm cool
I didn't make it sugar, playin' by the rules
I come up hard baby, but now I'm fine
I'm checkin' trouble
We checking in and we checkin out
Bitches on my nuts for the clout
I be on the low
Chillin wit the bros
2 Hunnid k for my international tour shows
I come up hard baby, but now I'm cool
I didn't make it sugar, playin' by the rules
I come up hard baby, but now I'm fine
I'm checkin' trouble
with the keys in my hand to the four by four
Jumped in my ride, checkin' that nobody saw
The club we went in, we got down boun-bounced to the rhythm
life
Lord have mercy!
Yo', check it out, I want all the refugees out there
To just put up your motherfuckin' hands, you know you're a fuckin'
your nigga still drink Pinnacle
Bitch, your taste is pitiful
I talk cash shit, you ain't cash shit, call up Baby Choppa, Cash Kidd, and spend my cash,
T on the mic, TopGunning
After your neck, checkin' respect, makin' you sweat
Rhyme Syndicate boy, in effect
The rap motivator, teacher, talker, night rhyme
to the voices that object
This is time for me to now feel like my best self
And to put my worries all up on the shelf
So Imma go and
Walk around like I'm
a plan for the whole night
Okay your legs like a store they open up
And you got people in the aisle
Been here every night for weeks at a time
You in
to the drama
I met her through my nigga named Jermaine Palmer
Who knew her through his peoples by the Baltimore harbor
Alana was a Marylan' thurough
you falling it's
How you getting up 15 on the check-ins, the
Loub' what I'm stеppin'
38 be the weapon no bitchin' up
Its big poppa stunna
You see mе
I ran up a check, got a double
And then I'mma make it like back
Was in the stu' with some bitches
They baddies, still checkin' they ass
I can't
checkin' me out for bitch I can still fuck
And up, get yourself in this clique
Wet up like tongue licks, behind handcuffed in a slut
Look, I'm from G-row
I come up hard baby, but now I'm cool
I didn't make it sugar, playin' by the rules
I come up hard baby, but now I'm fine
I'm checkin' trouble
I was sittin' at the cafe for a bite
And couldn't help but overhear this guy
He just pulled up in a U-Haul truck
Tell Becky how pumped he was
'Bout
on
Then after that she gon` jump my bone
Gettin tweeded up in the club niggas in the parking lot
Sasquatch pipmin bitches from different cities
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