Lyrics:
name naming
I've living by the code
My finger on the stainless ready
To rock the roll
In case these niggas try to take me under
It's like a jungle
my whole life
Confessed my problems like so many times that I ain't got no song type
Shorty get it on on his own, bless him, yeah, he a real nigga
with the hood folks, god damn
Nasty baby, 2017
Big ol' diamonds in my pinky ring
Prada on me, bitch I do my thing
Yeah, aye, I ain't gotta talk
water bed
That puts Hugh Hefner's mansion to shame
With girls by the pool and Italian sports cars
I'm just here in this dump for the game
So kiss
Bishop Don Magic Juan
Ain't no shame, in my game
Good game, is happenin everyhere
{*Interlude plays in background*}
Playas in Los Angeles, Detroit,
on the dress and break her for her purse
Ten wraps and a rubber band
(Gouda)
Three or four more in my other hand
(Gouda)
Five, ten, fifteen, twenty
(Gouda)
the money, they fall in love
I need more, it's not enough
Ain't nobody I could trust (yeah)
Blow my mind, don't blow me up (Brrrt)
Don't fold, I go
X games
rounds, niggas know where we at (brr, brr, yeah)
My coke be the best, talk no steps (uh-huh, ah)
Headshot took off, soulless
Making bands off the plans we moving up
Can you stand like a man when you move with us
Aint no telling what's next and new with us we the truth to ya
hidin'?
I'm still ridin' 'round with them bands on me
And to set the records straight
I ain't never had no show inside the A
Million on my head, that's
just like Outkast, born in the trap
So what's going on with you faggots?
And what you gonna do when your swagger no longer matters?
And your bitch ain't
by some caps ah
See me shining all my teeth stay gold
Like pony boy motherfucker walk with big bank rolls
Swerving in a Mercedes this ain't no lease I
plane (Yep)
I stunt niggas growth in this rap shit
Suggest you react quick or invest
In some globe games
I'm propane and hard liquor, bow down to who
What
list
Glocks, grenades, brass bullets with big tips
So nooooo
And if you think you living, no way José
Lemme give em' lessons, listen what my bro say
(bands)
One man army, I don't need no man (no man)
Got it out the mud, I ain't need no hand (no hand)
Took my first trip, just me and my plan
Trashed up
lames to shame
Doing good by my lonely
2022 cutting off the fake homies
Fraudulent looking som like a fake Roley
I got too much game Err body think they
I'm taking my inhibitions and I'm tying into a brick
And I'm throwing them through the window of a store
Ain't no turning back when the brick hits
I'm out in Jers, to the fullest, like some West Coast love
But after 'Pac stopped rappin', it ain't no West Coast thug
Just West Coast love
To my
I'm the trash-picking
Customer ass-kissing
Cook in a jazz kitchen
Cooking till the brass section
Begins their last session
Fueled by ambition
It's a cryin' shame, brothers takin' life as a game
Growing up against the law, but no one knows who's to blame
Dealin' drugs on the corner, you
the house and get nasty
I spit the real game i rode her in my caddy
When she yelled my name
I told her call me daddy
Trick nigga if ya tell me you
A player
loose change
Don't get wrapped in the game
To get back in the same
Where my backs in the flames
Don't react to the fame
To get back in the shame I felt
I'm out in Jers, to the fullest, like some West Coast love
But after 'Pac stopped rappin', it ain't no West Coast thug
Just West Coast love
To my
yippy-yo
Like Deck said, this ain't your average flow
Coming like rah ooh-ah achie kah
Tell me how ya like it so far, baby paw
The poetry's in motion,
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