Lyrics:
for my forty acres and a blunt to blaze
Biblical times, good hearts with militant minds
For black cotton, I'm hoppin' over enemy lines
For black
Been over that cat too fat, uh-huh Been over that cat too fat, uh-huh
I'm the hottest young nigga in the South I'm killin' these rappers while they
Fat Freddy's fingers so lazily linger on the ebony and ivory keys
Seduced by a logic fuelled by the darkest liquid made from the sea
Warm it would
Stingy like Mr krabs when it
Comes down to my sauce
Got chased by a fat mall cop
He look like Rick Ross
Like I'm hooping with this nigga
Hit him with
feelings
She just trippin’
Yeah, pockets got obese
I’m bout to fly to Greece
By myself, all alone
She want a condo and kids
I gave your shit a listen, it’s
you want to step and get done, cause I'm that nigga
Well it's me that nigga D (Who?)
That fat square twister, the one who fucked your sister
I made
Give that"
"Yeah"
"Roll another big fat, Hit that, Give that"
"Said I wake up, Bake up, Lace up"
(Whoo)
"Stoned by 9AM, now I done fucked around
everybody else gonna feel it
Yeah
See I got the trap boomin'
I feel like the fat Gucci
Look I jump on this beat then I hit like I'm Zab Judah
See I bob and I
that bitch
I said street niggas strong like bleach nigga
Forty turn a sweet nigga, caught a case and not a week nigga
The price is right, call Bob
Lookin' so different from when he was just livin' man
Another 40-side killer, man
North side in the sixteenth building and
I'm on the corporate side,
Guess what? Got gaffled by one time
I'm back to the motherfucking county jail
Six months on my chest, now it's time to bail, uh
I get's released
Guess what? Got gaffled by one time
I'm back to the motherfucking county jail
Six months on my chest, now it's time to bail, uh
I get's released
stem
I'm running my town you know that's him
I'm big fish you boy lil shrimp
Lil nigga don't play with him
That draco that 40 it stay by him
No I'm not
with the dope ass intro
I'm comin' and comin' with the style, see
It's 'bout time now ain't all business
I believe 'em without the nine
Downin' the 40
spit shit subliminal
Slang therapist, my whole style is criminal
Bugged like Bob Digital, fly visual
Mind body and soul, I'm a strong individual
Come
hoe
I'm steady packin', steady rackin' bitch, You can't no more
Yeah, you not on my level
you a little hoe
40 pointers on my neck, 30 racks on My coat
Yeah, I keep cash in my YSL
Pussy fat through my pants, he can tell
I'm dolled up and I'm rich as fuck
My lips glossy, pucker up
Pink crop top,
or Bentley
Beamer, Benz, or Bentley
This scheming don't affect me
I'm fresh I'm fly, I'm so damn high
More than five hundred horses when I roll by
I'm
this
Some days ac can defrost
When its on full spin
I’m freezing on my way to IHS
With my kid by my side
Swerve miss
Deers coming jumping by
Running
by jakes
On my own level upgrading my spaces
Son I'm dumb dumbs invading faces
Making my own rules gin and guava juice
Talk shit, catch a hole in ya
night
Now I was tied up under a vieduct
With cigareete burns on my face
And I'm bein fucked by a known slut
But I'm like so what
The only question that I
for my forty acres and a blunt to blaze
Biblical times, good hearts with militant minds
For black cotton, I'm hoppin' over enemy lines
For black
again
Sipping Hen
Staring at that white girl from Michigan
She was with a friend, fat ass fly ho
I went in for the kill, ASAP, pronto
So wait boo, 'fore
enough
Drive-by's, blood-spattered on my shoe, I'm not hood enough
But why cry?
I Waka Flocka Flame, hit your block up
Thug life, it's in my veins, go
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